Prayer in the Night
by beyondwonder
Summary: "Heed my warning – if your soul should go to the left; do not go to the right." - M - Dean/Jo - Season 4 spoilers
1. Chapter 1

**TITLE:** Prayer in the Night

**AUTHOR:** Beyond_Wonder

**RATING:** PG

**SPOILERS: **Season 2 - Season 4. I guess you could call this AU because it weaves Jo into the plot starting from season 3 and working it's way into season 4 - so you've been warned for all those people who haven't seen season 4 :D

**AN:** A huge massive thank you to Hannah for her awesome beta skills and for her guidance, as well as deanandjorecs for offering advice and reading over the fic to make sure it makes sense. I should also point out that this will be a long fic - I'm almost finished writing chapter 14 and I'm no where near done. So please be patient and I hope you enjoy it!

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'**The Pretender'**

"Finally!"

Joanna Harvelle collapsed heavily onto a pile of freshly turned soil and let out a deep groan. Six feet below, the bones, from a particularly bad tempered poltergeist, were smoldering away in the fire she had started in the old oak coffin. Several used matches lay discarded on top an empty bag of rock salt beside her.

Staring up at the inky night sky, she slowly stretched each of her aching limps while waiting for the bones to finish burning. After a few minutes she sat up. Chunks of grass and soil clung to her back, but she ignored them and stood up with a moan. Picking up her abandoned shovel, she waited until the fire died down before replacing the soil into the grave.

She frowned at the mess she had made. At the time she had been frantic to find the bones, and burn them before the ghost had a real chance to hurt the young family occupying its former residence. Now she wished that she had bothered to dig in a neat rectangle. The cemetery's grounds keeper was sure to notice the grave had been recently tampered with.

Jo quickly finished her work and ignored the little voice taunting her with the knowledge that the Winchester brothers could have done a better and neater job. Her fingers tightened on the shovel angrily. She knew it was stupid to compare her hunting skills to the Winchesters – they had been hunting since they could walk – but she had been working full time as a hunter for a year and a half now, and she was proud of her small achievements.

Jo stifled a sneezed. It was the middle of May and despite the approaching summer, it was still icy cold at night, and Jo could think of nothing but a long, skin scalding hot shower.

When she was finished, she loaded her brand new truck up with her equipment and left the cemetery. Before she checked into a motel, she performed a last thorough walk through the house and cleaned up any residual ecto plasm. Jo completed the job by calling the family to let them know it was safe to come home. The small family of four was most appreciative and forced her to take some money (which she had been embarrassed and awkward about accepting), and thanked her for handling the situation so quickly and privately.

At twenty minutes to midnight, Jo was in the shower - her skin quickly turning a bright shade of pink. While she lathered and rinsed the dirt, salt and blood out of her hair, she found her thoughts drifting towards her mom.

Since the destruction of the Roadhouse, Ellen Harvelle no longer forbade her daughter to hunt the supernatural. Instead, she surprised Jo by appearing in Duluth with a sad smile and a brand new truck. Jo had been prepared for another full-blown mother daughter argument, and was taken aback when Ellen had wrapped Jo in a hug, and apologized for months of arguments and ultimatums.

She had confided to Jo her deepest fears, insisting that she could never survive the death of her only child, but she understood why Jo wanted to destroy evil so desperately. Ellen promised not to stand in her way, so long as Jo kept in regular contact, and visited her as much as she could. Jo was startled by her mother's sudden change of heart - that is until Ellen revealed the truth of her visit. Dean Winchester had sold his soul to the devil in return for his brother's life, and had less than a couple of months to live.

Suddenly it all made sense. The strange missed calls on her phone from a private number, the silent two-minute long messages on her voice mail and the reason why Bobby sounded so distracted when she had called asking for help with a Japanese translation.

Jo wasted a whole month debating with herself about whether she should call the eldest Winchester. Eventually, after a couple of shots of tequila, she called him only to discover his phone had been disconnected. She wasn't one to believe in 'signs', but Jo had found herself hesitant to try tracking him down.

Too much time had passed and she had heard from her mom that he was up to his arms in demon's and monsters. Jo realized after a couple of months that she had been right not to track him down. After all, she was the one carrying the torch for him, and she probably wasn't the first or the last female to have her heart broken by Dean Winchester.

Jo contemplated the significance of the date with a painful pang to her heart. Earlier in the day she made the time to ring the new roadhouse's answering machine, and left a brief message, allowing her overly concerned mother to know that she was safe and that she loved her. Jo knew that her mom would be upset that she hadn't called earlier, but knew she would appreciate that Jo had called at all.

Jo leant forward, resting her head against the cool tiles, and closed her eyes. The hot spray worked it's magic as heat seeped into the stubborn muscles in her neck and allowed her to relax. When her cell phones alarm chimed midnight, her thoughts focused solely on Dean.

Her stomach muscles clenched, her heart began to race painfully and she shut her eyes tightly. Before she could think twice, Jo found herself stumbling awkwardly through a prayer. She prayed that Dean Winchester had someone managed to escape the clutches of hell and death itself.

She hadn't prayed to God in a very long time - not since the death of her Daddy. When Bill Harvelle hadn't returned home alive after a hunting trip, even though she had begged and promised a lifetime of good behavior to God, Jo decided that God had turned his back on her and so she had turned her back on Him.

'_Please God,'_ she whispered into the small shower stall, clenching her fists tightly. '_Please don't let them take him to hell. Please, he has done so much good for you. How can you possibly let them take him? Please! I know I haven't prayed in a long time and I'm sorry but please, please, please save him. Please!' _

The hot water suddenly evaporated and cold water streamed down her back. Jo stepped out from under the spray feeling exposed and embarrassed. '_Idiot_!' She cursed herself for indulging in such fantasies and make-believe. '_As if God, if he even exists, would decide to grant me my wish just because I said please?'_ Disgusted with herself, she turned off the water as hard as she could and threw the curtains aside angrily.

Jo grabbed the stiff motel towel, and started to roughly dry her bruised skin. She stormed into the bedroom to grab her clothes and got dressed as quickly as she could. Jo was in no mood to take her time and enjoy the victory of another successful hunt tonight. Instead she was already thinking about the next job.

Grabbing her brush, she raked it through her wet hair and continued to scold herself for her earlier weak thoughts. '_The truth is that life sucks and it's up to YOU to make it worth something. Dean died having lived his life to the fullest and taking out as many evil SOB's as he could. He would mock you for praying to God – you might as well pray to the tooth fairy while you're at it,' _she thought angrily.

'_No more wishing for a nice sugar coated world', _she decided. '_Tomorrow I am going out there and making sure evil knows they can't take this world without a fight.' _She glared at her reflection in the mirror. She desperately wanted to do something to signify her new mantra - like cut her hair short - but she knew that the long blonde hair and petite face allowed her to gain more information from authority members and allowed her to play her different parts when she was inspecting new cases.

Jo was well aware of the fact that at first glance, people assumed she was just another schoolgirl, a perky young blonde haired girl who didn't have a secret knife collection or had seen the monsters that hide under children's beds at night. '_This is my best weapon_,' she told herself. '_Keep the illusion prominent and I can use it to my advantage.'_

Throwing her towel over the hook, she retired to bed with unresolved tension in her bones. In the dark it was harder to deny the feeling of sorrow and yearning deep down in her heart for the cocky hunter. She longed to see the smirk and the haunted eyes, and the thought that no one would see him again made her lungs hurt.

'_I wonder if it hurt when he died?'_ She had read the stories, heard the gossip that the hellhounds would tear him from limb to limb. Jo shuddered and knew without a doubt that as much as she wanted to believe it - Dean did not die peacefully in his sleep. She hoped his younger brother was by his side when he died, and secretly wished Sam had just stayed dead.

She wanted to be shocked by the dark confession, and she wanted to believe that she might have made the same deal if she had a little brother that died. Jo didn't have a little brother - but once she had Ash, and when the news came of his death, she had wanted to do something drastic and life saving too.

But she didn't.

Instead she polished off a bottle of tequila and exterminated two poltergeists haunting an abandoned fishing trawler. She'd nearly drowned but when she stumbled onto the shore, throwing up half the ocean, she had felt better.

Jo closed her eyes and tried to repress the memories of Dean uselessly. '_Just tonight',_ she told herself when the tears started to well in her eyes. She wanted to scream out loud when the pain in her heart increased. She wished that she had better memories of him and hated that her most recent memory was riddled with rejection. Jo pulled her legs closer to her chest and hugged them tight. '_Tonight I can cry, but tomorrow its over. No more tears for any Winchester men'._

No sooner had she given in, the tears sprung free. A million different 'what if' scenarios trickled through her brain and with each new one, another tear stained the mattress. _'Why God? Why him? Why Ash? Why Dad? Why John? Why wont you take me?'_ She begged for the answers to her questions - but they never came.

Eventually she cried herself to sleep.

***

In the morning Jo awoke to a familiar hollow feeling. She got out of bed and tore the tainted sheets from the bed and dumped them on the floor. She slid into new clothes, packed her bag, removed salt from the windowsill and picked up her car keys. Tossing her bag in the tray of her truck, she checked her weapons cache in its secret compartment and dropped the room keys off to the motel owner.

She was on the road before the sun began to climb into the sky, and the memories of last night were left behind in the motel room. Jo took the next exit and settled into an eight-hour drive to her new hunt. Her phone sat in it's cradle beside the trucks CD player and blinked painfully that she had missed 3 calls and a message; all of them from her mother.

The only message she cared about had already been read the night before and remained saved to her SIM card.

**'**_**Jo, keep an eye on Sam for me - Dean'**_

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As always - feedback is loved and adored and very much appreciated! :D


	2. Chapter 2

**Spoilers:** Season 4 - Dean's been in Hell for a month 1/2 now.

**Disclaimers:** Don't own Supernatural or anything associated with it. No suey!

**A/N:** Thanks for everyones really supportive comments & encouragement. I really hope you enjoy this chapter.

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'**Gone Away'**

It was another lumpy bed, in another shitty motel room, in yet another small-unknown town. Jo threw her keys down on the chipped linoleum table in frustration and kicked her bag towards the bed. The deep crooked cut on her forearm was already infected. She had spent all afternoon crawling around the God forsaken swamp, trying to find the nest of the nasty water serpent that had been feasting on the local fishermen community. The female serpent had put up a good fight and had nearly chocked the life out of her, but it was the male that had latched it's teeth around her arm and refused to let go even after she killed it.

Jo carried the brand new first aid kit to the bathroom and peeled her clothes off. Most of the wound had clotted and she hissed when she discovered a new cut on her thigh. She tossed the kit on the bathroom counter and dragged herself into the shower. She reeked. She could still taste the foul swamp after having been forced to swallow some putrid water when the overgrown snake had tugged her feet out from under her. Luckily, she had the sense to hold onto her knife, and had rolled onto her back and skewered the creature's eye before it had a chance to devour her arm.

It took two bottles of the motels complimentary shampoo, before she was satisfied that her hair no longer smelt like dead snake and rotten eggs. When it came to cleaning out her wounds with soap, all she could do was bite down on her lip and finish as quickly as possible.

Shower finished, and her anger fading, Jo dried herself off gently and sat down on the edge of the toilet to analyse the wounds. Four stitches and several layers of antiseptic cream later, she started to take stock of her other injuries. Her ribs weren't too bad, though the swamp hadn't helped the healing process, but the muscles in the shoulder she had dislocated a month ago were starting to make her life difficult.

An all to familiar headache demanded attention and she swallowed a handful of aspirin, before making her way to the bed. After sorting through several foul smelling clothes, she found a clean tank top and panties. Jo crawled into bed with her cell phone and pulled the covers up to her chin. Flipping the phone open, she hit the speed dial with a still swollen thumb and waited.

It was the same result as the last two-dozen calls. Sam's message bank answered her concerned frown and she hung up. She'd already left messages, some ranging from sweet concerned requests, to grumpy demands that he call her back.

None had been answered; but she continued to try. She figured he was sitting in some backwater motel in the dark, with a bottle of alcohol (she knew that depressed Winchester men took to their alcohol like a fish to water) and knew that eventually he would sober up and return her calls.

She decided to try again in the morning. Jo tucked her phone under her pillow with her father's knife and switched the TV on. Curling up in bed, she slowly drifted asleep, lulled by whatever sitcom was playing.

***

Jo woke the next morning feeling stiff and sore. Switching the TV off she got dressed and checked her phone.

**1 missed call**

Jo scrolled through her cell phone to determine who had called her. Upon discovering it was her mom, she tossed the phone back on the bed. Sorting out her clean clothes from her dirty clothes, she shoved the dirty clothes into her duffle for the Laundromat. Pulling on a pair of cut off shorts, she noticed with disgust, the assortment of scars and fading bruises on her legs. She stepped out of her shorts disappointed and slid into a pair of loose jeans and a t-shirt.

Her stomach growled. Jo grabbed her phone and threw it into her bag. Wallet in hand, she shoved her keys in her pocket and headed towards her truck. Halfway across the parking lot, her phone began to ring. She shuffled around her bag until she found her cell phone and opened it.

"Hello?"

"Umm… Hi… is this um, Jo? Jo who… you know, gets rid of bad spirits?"

"Who is this?" Jo asked suspiciously, reaching her truck and unlocking it.

The female on the other end gulped nervously, and Jo could distinctly hear a baby crying in the background. "My name is Sarah Louise... you ah… helped my friend from book club… Susan… Susan Travers?"

"Oh, yes… Hi," Jo breathed a sigh and pulled out her notebook and pen from the glove compartment. "What can I do for you?"

"Umm, well… you see, I've just started renovating my mothers place, it's been empty for years since she passed away and well… the contractors quit yesterday because…well… can you hang on a second? James! JAMES! Stop hitting your sister!... Are you still there?"

"Yes, I'm still here. You're having problems with your house?"

"Yes. I think there is something… wrong. The plumber said there is nothing wrong with the pipes in the basement but… well… I think there is a…" The woman paused and Jo could hear a door slide shut. The woman lowered her voice so that Jo could barely hear her. "I think there is a spirit living in the basement."

"I see," Jo wrote the woman's name down in her book and proceeded to ask her questions about what had happened and finally where the house was located. The woman sounded relieved by the time Jo agreed to come and check out the house. When she finished the call, she was already shaking her head. She couldn't believe this was the second call in a month that had been 'recommended' to her. Jo wondered if any of these women actually discussed any books at these book clubs.

Jo closed the door of her truck and started the engine. Switching her phone to loudspeaker, she called Sam's cell phone again. While the phone rang, Jo spotted an empty car space in front of the Laundromat and pulled into it. Expecting the phone to go to voice mail, she jumped when a female voice answered.

"Hello?"

"Yeah, umm… Hi. Is Sam there?" Jo asked suddenly feeling very nervous. '_Who was answering Sam's phone?'_ she wondered, while biting her thumbnail. '_Was he already in trouble? Did she dial the wrong number?'_

"You've got the wrong number."

"Oh. Umm… sorry," Jo mumbled and quickly hung up. She frowned and checked her phone. It read that her last phone call was to a S. Winchester. Thinking that somehow the phone lines had crossed and malfunctioned, she redialled.

"What?" the same irritated woman snapped.

"Sorry, I thought I miss dialled."

"No, you're still wrong kid. Now stop calling."

"I'm not-" The phone disconnected, and Jo fumed. "What a bitch!" Tucking her phone into her pocket, she grabbed her bag and head into the Laundromat.

***

_62 miles away… _

"Was that my phone?" Sam asked as he left the bathroom. He ran a hand through his wet hair and tossed his towel on a chair.

Ruby shrugged. "Some kid had the wrong number," she explained and waved the phone at him. "My, my – don't you clean up well?"

"What's with the sudden aversion to clothes? You planning on going out like that?" He narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously.

Ruby smiled, putting her hands on her narrow hips and walking towards him seductively. "Don't pretend like you aren't hot and bothered right now," she warned him. "You know I can tell when you lie to me." She took his hand and brought them to her breasts. "Come on, it's part of a complete nutritious breakfast."

"You're insane - you know that right?"

"Give me five minutes and I'll have you screaming my name."

"Just five minutes?" he asked her, and allowed himself to be thrown onto the bed.

***

Jo bit her thumbnail while waiting for her computer to finish downloading her email. Sitting in bed with her back against the headboard, she glanced at the TV. The local news showed nothing of importance and she looked back at her computer screen.

Beside her sat a half eaten burger and fries, and a handful of newspapers covered in grease stains. Finally her inbox let out a ping and she turned her attention back to the lists. She deleted all the junk mail, sorted newsletters into a folder for later reading, ignored an email requesting her service from some website called 'Ghostfacers' and opened an email from Bobby.

It read:

**'**_**Jo –**_

_**Heard about your run in with that water serpent, nice work but I told you to stay away from that damn thing!!! Don't think I don't know about that zombie either – you were lucky that it didn't snap your arm right off! **_

_**Your ma tells me you haven't called in a while – do her (and ME) a favour and call her or I'll come and get you myself. **_

_**Be good and stay safe for crying out loud!'**_

Jo grinned, touched by the hunter's words. She knew despite the lecture, that he meant well and apart from her mom, he was the closest thing to family that she knew. She quickly responded that she would keep out of trouble and was planning on calling her mom tonight. She hit send and moved onto the next email.

**'**_**Joanna Beth Harvelle! **_

_**Your arms and legs better be broken since you haven't called me in 2 months! 2 months Jo! The deal was ONCE a month MINIMUM! **_

_**Please call me baby girl, you're making your mamma go grey. **_

_**Got all the walls and roof up in the roadhouse, it's almost finished. Would be great if I had an extra pair of hands (Lord knows Ernie and Louis are better at breaking things rather than building things). **_

_**I'll be waiting for your call. **_

_**Love you' **_

Picking up her phone, Jo called her mothers cell phone. As predicted, she answered on the first ring. "Where are you and are you ok?"

"Hello to you too mom," Jo answered with a grin. "I'm fine. All my limbs are attached and I don't even know what town I'm in, except that it has more bars than stores."

"Sounds like a good place to get some work," Ellen suggested.

"I don't have time. I got another one of those book club lady jobs."

"You're joking?"

"Anymore jobs and I'm going to have start paying that Susan woman a commission." Jo joked and shook her head. "You know the last woman tried to sell me her son she was so grateful."

"Was he handsome?"

"Mom!" Jo cried, but rolled her eyes. "Not really, he had posters of Mariah Carey on his walls."

"Well…"

"Don't even try it Mom, I'd sooner marry Louie before that guy."

"Don't tell Louie that or he'll never leave my damn side," Ellen grumbled. "Speaking of Louie, did I tell you he electrocuted himself on Wednesday?"

"What?"

"He got carried away with wiring the neon sign to the Roadhouse, and next thing we know he's hollering and falling off the damn roof."

"Oh no!"

"I begged Ernie to take him away on a hunt – even if it was a fake one. I just had to get him away from the place before he killed himself."

"Oh, he's just trying to help," she soothed, but she couldn't keep the smile out of her voice. She could only imagine the sight of the aging hunter hanging upside down, trying to wire the neon to the fixtures on the roof. Jo had no doubt that Louie would of limped away assuring them all he would 'walk it off'.

"Yeah well I'd prefer someone else help me."

"Don't start." Jo begged and tried to change the subject so that her mother couldn't persuade her to come home.

"Come on baby girl, I miss you. I get that you're a big bad hunter now but I miss my daughter. The guys are great, but they are no you."

"Mom." Jo moaned and shook her head. She hated when her mom tried to guilt her and lately she hated to admit that it was starting to work. The very notion of clean sheets and a home cooked meal was starting to sound like Heaven and that confused Jo. She'd never seen the roadhouse as home, but lately, with everything that had happened, the open road and the seedy motel rooms were getting harder to live with.

"Just a couple of days? The ghosts will still be out there. Surely the world can survive without you for a couple of days?"

"Mom it's not like that, and I am not that deluded to think the world will suffer without me. This is my job Mom, and there is no sick leave or holidays."

"You are sounding more and more like your father every day," Ellen muttered bitterly.

"Mom."

"Alright, I'm sorry. That was unfair."

Jo let out a deep sigh and gripped the phone, "OK listen, I'll wrap up this job for this woman and then I'll call you and we'll see how it goes. Maybe I can swing by-"

"Gee, don't do me any favours Jo," Ellen snapped.

"Do you want me to come or not?"

"Of course I do. You know that. I'm worried about you is all."

"I know," Jo took a deep breath and tried not to let her temper get the best of her. "Look I've got to go, I call you after I finish the job," she promised.

"But Jo we can-"

"I love you, Mom."

"Fine," Ellen mumbled. "I love you too."

"Bye!" Jo hung up and shook her head at her mother's antics. She had no doubt that her mom was now running around telling everyone she was coming home. Despite the instinct to avoid her mom's clucking, she was old enough now to admit that the idea of being looked after, if only for a night, didn't seem so horrendous.

Jo woke her computer up and opened a fresh email. She felt foolish for resisting her mothers love so much, when there where other people in the world who would love nothing more than to have someone that loved and worried about them. She searched her contact book until she found Sam's email, and clicked on his address.

**'**_**Hey Sam, **_

_**Tried calling you. Just wanted to know that you're alive? Please give me a call - even if it's for a split second.**_

_**Jo'**_

She hit send and closed her laptop. Picking up her now stone cold dinner, she tossed it into the bin and went to the bathroom to have a shower. Twenty minutes later, she curled up in bed with the TV playing softly in the background.

No sooner had she shut her eyes, a high-pitched frequency ringing filled her ears. Sitting up in bed, she looked around the room and saw the TV screenfilled with static. Jo climbed out of bed, pulling her knife out from under her pillow. She crept towards the TV glancing suspiciously around the room.

Suddenly the room exploded with light, forcing her to shut her eyes and turn her head away. The light seemed to invade her body and she dropped her knife, raising her hands to protect her ears as the ringing continued to increase in volume.

A voice, soft and yet familiar, called out to her and the ringing stopped abruptly. "It's OK to look now, Joanna."

The light dimmed and Jo lowered her arms. She realised with a start that she was no longer in the motel room. In fact she didn't know where she was. She could see nothing behind her but darkness.

She turned towards the now dim light in front of her. A man in his late thirties stood patiently before her dressed in a suit and a tan trench coat. His kind brown eyes gazed at her thoughtfully.

Jo opened her mouth to ask him who he was, when he extended a large hand towards her. Jo didn't move. As her eyes continued to adjust to the surrounding darkness, she realised there was a light source coming from behind the man. With a gasp of surprise, she realised the long lines of shadows extending from the man's shoulders, were actually quivering black wings.

"Do not be afraid, Joanna. My name is Castiel. I am an Angel of the Lord."

Jo's jaw dropped open. She gaped at his wings, unable to tear her eyes away. Some of the feathers looked as sharp as steel, but the feathers closest to his shoulders looked soft and translucent like skin. "Wha?" she started and cleared her throat, "I'm dreaming aren't I?"

The Angel, Castiel, took her hand and pulled her towards him. Jo was surprised by how lightly she moved, almost like she was floating. She looked at his face and saw a ghost of a smile on his chapped lips. "Yes. You need to come with me. There isn't much time."

He placed a cool hand to her face and her eyes closed involuntarily. She felt an invisible breeze ruffle her hair, and felt something akin to silk drape around her waist. His hand fell from her face and she heard the sound of bird wings flapping lazily in the distance. "I'm scared," she admitted, startling herself with her own honesty.

She realised the silk around her waist was actually his arm when he tightened his hold around her. "I wont let you go," he promised, and the sincerity in his voice convinced her that he wouldn't hurt her. "You are safe with me, Joanna," he whispered.

Jo felt a hot tugging sensation on her feet. "Where are we going?" she asked softly.

"There is something you need to see," he informed her. A searing heat from beneath her feet momentarily distracted Jo. She shifted in his arm uncomfortable; the heat intensified.

"It hurts," she moaned.

"When I tell you to open your eyes do not be afraid. Nothing can hurt you so long as I am with you." His voice tickled her ears and the heat began to fade almost instantly. The burning sensation on her legs ceased and she was startled when she felt something warm and soft, like sand, between her toes.

The smell of rotting meat and sulphur invaded her nostrils; she found it increasingly difficult to breathe. "Where are we?"

"Open your eyes, Joanna."

She did as she was instructed, and the first thing she saw was red. She blinked a couple of times, and more colours invaded her vision. Orange, blue, green and black. When it all started to make sense, a shadow slid past her, obscuring her view. She stepped back, and felt Castiel's chest strong and cool against her back.

The shadow moved again, and her hands flew to her mouth. Millions of charred bones, all different shapes and sizes, spread before her like an ocean. Muffled screams seized her senses, and she looked above her.

Black chains weaved together like an intricate spider web in the dark green sky. It took her a moment before she realised what the wiggling dark shapes were between the chains. Jo eyes widened in horror.

She couldn't breathe.

"It's alright, Joanna. Nothing can hurt you."

"What about them?" Jo sobbed, opening her eyes. The faces, all of them covered in blood and twisted in torment, burnt into her mind and made her shake. "Is this hell?" she asked him; but she already knew the answer.

"Come," he said, and he pulled her across the sea of bones. She tried not to step on them, trying to avoid the broken skulls the most, but with each step the bones dissolved into ash. Jo wanted to throw up. "Do not look at them," he warned her - but she couldn't look away. Her heart tightened with each step.

A howl captured her attention and she looked up and wished she hadn't. Spread before her on a barbed wire fence hung Dean Winchester - at least - what was left of him. Before she could comprehend what she was doing, Jo began to push against Castiel's restraining arms. Her hand reached out for Dean and she called his name franticly.

"He can not see you," Castiel told her. "There is nothing you can do for him."

Jo ignored him and continued to push against him uselessly. Tears sprung from her eyes and Deans battered body appeared to melt before her. He howled in agony as an invisible force drove a steel pole through his chest. Jo heard the crunch of ribs, and a sickening wet sound.

"Please stop! Please!" She heard Dean beg, and her heart shattered as his sobbing echoed in her ears. The pole twisted and Jo couldn't stand the sound of Dean's screams for mercy any longer.

"Open your eyes."

Jo sat up in bed screaming. Tangled in motel sheets and covered in sweat, she stumbled blindly out of bed and raced to the bathroom. She barely made it to the toilet before she threw up. When she stopped choking, she started shaking so hard she couldn't kneel any longer. She collapsed on the tiles with a groan, and was too terrified to shut her eyes even when the room continued to spin.

"Oh my God," she whispered and brought a shaking hand to her face. A flash of silver caught her attention and she lowered her hand. Wound through her fingers was a silver necklace. At the end of the necklace a single, silver cross, swayed back and forth.

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Thoughts? Comments? Demands? Feedback is always appreciated :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Rating: **PG

**A/N:** Thank you again to Hannah for her patients, understanding and her beta skills. Thanks to Dora for her suggestions and help. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed and encouraged me to write more. I've just finished the outline for chp20 - so this is going to be a pretty long fic. I hope you enjoy this new chapter. :D

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'**What You Cannot See'**

Jo took the next turn off on her right with mixed feelings. Twenty minutes away from the roadhouse she fought the old instinct to just keep on driving.

The last hunt had been dealt with quickly. For her troubles, Jo received a concussion and a bruise to match. As soon as Jo started walking around the supposedly haunted house, the senior ghost became territorial and pushed Jo down a flight of stairs. In the end, the concussion had been worth it. While tumbling head first down the stairs, her boot caught on a loose step, and the real body of the murdered old woman was revealed to the world. It turned out that the son in law had a gambling problem, and when the mother in law found out, she threatened to tell her daughter. So he killed her. He'd lived with the secret for twelve years, and his wife turned out not to be the forgiving type.

The tall structure of the new roadhouse became visible from the top of the hill. Jo bit her lip, fiddling with the cross on her necklace. Memories of her previous visit to the Roadhouse flittered through her mind. Long, sun-scorching days, spent burying the murdered hunters caught in the blaze responsible for bringing the original roadhouse to its knees. Bobby and her mom buried Ash – Jo couldn't bring herself to do more than stand vigilantly beside his charred and twisted body.

Jo took note of the neat, iron fence that wound around the small gravesite they had created over the course of a week. Twelve small, white crosses stood guard for each of the twelve graves. _'Out of the ashes a revolution is born…' _Jo swallowed thickly. Like the many hunter before her, she refused to bow before evil. _'This is our world – the demons will have to pry it from every one of our dead bloody fingers before we give up.'_

Jo slowed the truck upon approaching the roadhouse, and crawled across the gravel. She pulled up beside three old pick up trucks, and killed the engine. Climbing out of the truck, she gazed up at the building. It was much bigger than the last roadhouse, and Jo figured that her mom had spent the entire insurance money on designing her dream roadhouse.

"Jo!"

Jo greeted her mom with a smile, and was instantly engulfed in a bone-crushing hug. "Hey, Mom."

"You came!" Ellen declared, and pulled back to take Jo's face in both of her worn hands. "Look at you! You're so skinny. Have you eaten at all in the last couple of months?"

"Leave the poor girl alone, Ellen." Jo looked over her mom's shoulder to spy two men in their late fifties, leaning against the porch steps, smoking, and covered head to toe in dried chunks of cement and dirt. The one of the left, Ernie Hawkins, a silver haired ex-marine, was a roadhouse regular. Jo easily recalled spending many a night as a child, sitting on Ernie's lean legs, pestering him for details about his latest hunt, while drawing rainbows and purple trees in his hunting journal.

The man on the right, Louie Cardwell, a harmless drunk with brilliant blue eyes and a crooked nose, was known better for his gambling losses than his hunting skills. He appeared in Jo's life right after her father died with a big mouth and a weakness for Texas hold 'em. Despite being accident prone, and standing in at only 5 foot three, he taught Jo how to make a fake ID, and how to throw a mean right hook.

Both men maintained a small place in her heart, and made her grateful they were out hunting when the demons attacked the roadhouse. Jo didn't think she would have been capable of burying her entire childhood in a week. "How's it going, Jo-Jo?"

"Fine thanks, Louie," Jo answered with a soft smile. "My mom been keeping you guys busy?"

"She's a slave driver," Ernie complained, his hazel eyes winked with mischief. "I'd strike but she'd probably shoot me."

"Keep talking like that and I will," Ellen threatened with a good-natured grin. "Are you hungry? Thirsty? Come on, you're probably tired after the drive. I'll get you a snack." Jo allowed herself to be dragged up the concrete steps and inside the roadhouse.

Ellen dropped her hand and allowed Jo to take in her surroundings. Wires hung from small beams like little snakes, and some of the thick wooden structures were impatiently awaiting plasterboard and insulation. The shape and size of the room however, were still the same as the previous roadhouse.

"What do you think?" Ellen asked looking excited. "I'm going to put the counter here - that arrives next week. And I went crazy and put in two bathrooms at the back there."

Jo followed her mom around the room. "It looks insanely close to the last one," Jo commented, glancing in an empty room she figured was going to be storage room. "It's fantastic."

"Thanks," Ellen replied proudly, and headed over to a cooler beside the door. She opened it up, and started pulling sodas and sandwiches out. "Here, eat this."

Jo rolled her eyes, but took the offered sandwich. "Thanks," she said and unwrapped the sandwich. She took a small bite under the watchful eyes of her mother. "Yum," she praised and forced a smile.

Ellen raised a disbelieving eyebrow at her. "So, kiddo - What's been happening?"

"You know pretty much everything," she said, between mouthfuls of sandwich, and took a sip of the soda. "The last hunt went fine. Though I think that'll be the last book club job I get - which I'm secretly relieved of."

"Work is work, Jo," her mother lectured. Ellen smiled however, when Jo continued to eat her sandwich, and walk around the room inspecting the walls and windows. The observant mother's eyes narrowed when she noticed Jo worrying a charm back and forth against her necklace. She walked over to Jo and pointed at the silver cross. "That's nice."

"Thanks," Jo mumbled embarrassed, and she shoved the necklace back under her shirt. "I just got it."

"Is everything OK, Jo?"

"I'm fine. Just tired. Haven't been sleeping much." Jo avoided her mom's curious eyes by walking around the room. She ducked into a small hallway that used to lead to her bedroom, and noticed there was a sturdy looking staircase in place of her room. "How many rooms have you got upstairs?" she called out.

She jumped when she realized her mom was standing right behind her. Jo knew her mom had seen the dark circles under her eyes, and was no doubt concerned with her appearance. She fiddled with her necklace self-consciously. "Five including my own," Ellen answered eventually, now staring at the cuts and scars on Jo's bare arms.

"Cool."

"What's going on?"

"Nothing," Jo insisted, growing frustrated with her mom's insistence. _'I knew I shouldn't have come, I should have kept driving and made up some lame excuse'_ she thought, chewing on her bottom lip.

"I'm not stupid, Jo. I know something is up. I can always tell when you lie to me," Ellen warned. The older Harvelle looked upset. She stepped forward and took Jo's hand, running a motherly hand over her scars. "What's going on?"

"I'm fine. Never been better," Jo lied and pulled her hand free. There was no way she was going to confess to her mom that she'd been too afraid to sleep for fear of another nightmare. Ever since the dream, which was now over a week ago, Jo could think of nothing but Dean's face, and the torture he must be enduring. "Come on," she said realizing her mom was studying her face. "I want to see what your room looks like." She headed up stairs. Ellen mumbled something behind her, but followed her regardless.

"You'll love the bathroom," Ellen told her, her boots clomping in time with Jo's. "There's two now - one for guests, and a private one adjoining my bedroom." Ellen pointed out the guest rooms, most of which were still awaiting walls, until they came to a large bedroom overlooking the back of the roadhouse. "And you'll be happy to know that Bobby insisted on laying down iron devil traps in the cement and iron rods around the windows." She placed a tender hand on the back, while Jo peered out the large bay window in her mom's room.

"What's in there?" Jo pointed down at the small room extending from the back of the roadhouse.

"I decided to expand the place to include a bigger laundry."

"Wow, you did go crazy," Jo teased.

***

Three days later, and one trip to the emergency room (Ernie had not so accidentally shot Louie in the foot with a nail gun), Jo was adjusting to life at the roadhouse again. She'd resisted sharing a room with her mom at first, but there were only two rooms finished, and the other one was being used by Ernie and Louie.

"Hey, Jo-Jo! You finished with that paint yet?" Ernie waltzed around the corner with an empty paint tray. Jo stepped back from the wall and looked at her handiwork. She had finally finished painting the bar room walls, and was satisfied she hadn't missed any spots. "Nice work kiddo!" he praised. "Thank God you arrived, or it would have taken me and Ellen two years to finish this place."

"Well,_ I_ wasn't the one who let Louie play electrician," Jo joked, picking up the bucket of paint, and pouring the last of it into Ernie's tray.

"Yeah well Bobby was supposed to be doing the electrical stuff, but he got.. ah.. busy with.. stuff."

Jo sighed. "Right… stuff."

"Sorry, Jo-Jo," Ernie apologized, gracing her with a knowing look. "Your Ma don't like me talking 'bout the Winchesters - specially round you."

"She means well," Jo admitted through gritted teeth, and handed him her paintbrush. "I'm gonna go grab us some food."

"Be a doll, and make sure your mom doesn't try to poison me again, will you?" Ernie pleaded, managing to smear paint over his eyebrow when he scratched his nose while holding the paintbrush. "I don't care what she says - tomatoes are the work of the devil."

"Healthy food won't kill you Ernie," Jo laughed.

"Yeah, but why take the risk?" he said and headed back upstairs. Jo chuckled, and headed into the newly fitted out kitchen to find her mom cutting up sandwiches and brownies. Jo remembered with a fond smile, how excited her mom had been when the fridge and deep fryer had arrived that morning.

"Mom, Ernie said to make sure you put extra tomatoes on his," Jo called out with a grin. Ellen shook her head, and scrapped the tomatoes off one of the sandwiches.

"He is so paranoid. I was just trying to make sure he ate something other than French fries and beer," Ellen said mostly to herself. Jo smiled and pulled out a bottle of water from the fridge. "Speaking of healthy," Her mom started, "I thought you should know you were talking in your sleep a lot last night."

Jo nearly chocked. Putting her water bottle down, she was grateful she had her back to her mom. "Oh…yeah?" she asked, trying to sound as vague as she could.

"Yeah. You kept repeating one name in particular."

'_Shit'._ Jo gulped, and slowly turned around to find her mom staring at her. Jo fiddled with her necklace nervously. "I don't remember dreaming about anyone."

"Jo," She started, but she paused and seemed to rethink her words. "Honey, I understand that –"

"It was just a dream, Mom," Jo said hotly and made for the door. Her mom's arm shot out and stopped her going anywhere.

"What happened to Dean was… horrible," Ellen said gently, and Jo could see that 'horrible' wasn't the word she had wanted to use. "I know you have feelings for him, honey. He's a _Winchester_ – of course you'd fall for him." Jo opened her mouth to protest, but her mom continued. "But it's not right that you waste your life mourning a boy that has already passed away."

"He hasn't _passed away_ and gone to some better place, Mom!" Jo snapped and shoved her mom's hand away. "He is in hell. His soul is being tortured because he was trying to protect his family. He shouldn't be dead, Mom. The demon's tricked him into it."

"Honey, I know what happened. I wouldn't wish hell on my worst enemy, but you have to understand… there is nothing you can do for him now. He's gone and he's not coming back. Dean made his choice! He _knew_ what would happen when he made that deal for Sam."

"I know that," Jo said darkly and glared at the floor.

"Jo, promise me," Ellen said and grabbed her daughters arm urgently. "Swear on your Daddy's grave you will NEVER make a deal like that - no matter what, you hear me? No matter what!"

"Mom," Jo moaned, but she was startled by the look in her mother's eyes. They were wide and frantic. "I promise," she agreed with some hesitation. Eventually after a tense moment of silence, her mom dropped her hand.

Ellen let out a shaky breath.

"Here," her mom stepped back and handed her plates with sandwiches and brownies on it. "Go take this to the guys, and make sure Ernie hasn't got the nail gun again."

Jo nodded, and took the plates. With a last glance at her mom, she left the kitchen and headed upstairs.

***

Jo had just finished cleaning up after dinner, when she heard Ernie and Louie on the porch talking to someone. She grabbed some beers and headed outside. She realized with a grin, that the man they where talking to, was Bobby.

"You're a peach, Jo-Jo!" Ernie exclaimed, as she handed the two hunters a beer, and offered one to Bobby.

"Hey Bobby," she greeted him with a warm smile.

"Hey yourself. Good to see you're in one piece." He narrowed his eyes at her, but a smile twitch at his lips. He took a big gulp of beer and motioned towards the roadhouse, "Your ma inside?"

"Yup. She's in the laundry whispering sweet nothings to the washer and dryer," Jo joked and the two hunters beside her chuckled.

"Watch your mouth Missy," Bobby warned, but a small grin flickered across his face. He popped the beer down on the porch and headed inside.

"Ohhhh… you're in trouble now, Jo," Louie teased, and lit a new cigarette. He took a deep breath and exhaled smoke. "Course the person we should be worrying about is that younger Winchester."

"Shut your trap, Lou!" Ernie hissed and kicked the other hunter's boot. "You know the rules."

"Oh who cares? Ellen is in there smooching with Bobby anyway," Louie said and grinned at Jo. "Jo's a good girl - she wont tell on me."

"Bobby and my mom?" Jo asked raising an eyebrow, and stared at the door Bobby had just entered.

"He's talking shit, Jo-Jo. Ignore him," Ernie insisted and shook his head. He kicked Louie's boot again and served him a meaningful glare.

Louie flicked his beer cap at Ernie, and shuffled his feet out of the hunters reach. "Oh sure, that's right. Old Louie is just talking shit. Yeah, well I warned ya'll that Sam Winchester would go Darth Vader on our asses - but does anyone listen? Noooo."

"Darth Vader? Do you hear yourself when you speak?"

"Say whatever you want," Louie said waving his beer around. "Now that his big brother isn't there to hold his leash, he's screwing around with demons, and soon he'll make Lucifer his bitch. Then ya'll be saying you shoulda listened to me."

"Dean's death was his own fault," Ernie interjected taking a long draw of his cigarette. "Everyone knows you don't make deals with the devil."

"Yeah well, maybe his Daddy dropped him on his head a lot as a kid?"

"Can't say we didn't see it coming though," Ernie remarked and put his cigarette out. "His father taught him all about making deals."

"It's a shame though, I liked John." Louie admitted with a shake of his head.

"You liar! You said if you saw the man again you'd slit his neck!"

"That's cause he cost me my truck in a poker game."

"You said you smashed it chasing vampires and that's why you had to buy another one!" Ernie exclaimed jumping up in his chair. "You idiot! I told you not to play against a Winchester," he lectured. "Or a Harvelle for that matter… aint that right Jo-Jo?... Jo?... where'd she go?"

Jo had already stormed away and was clenching her teeth so hard that it was beginning to hurt. Her hands were balled into fists and she stalked towards the back of the roadhouse to avoid them hearing her cussing out loud. She knew the two hunters were just talking crap, but there was a part of her that felt hurt and betrayed by the two hunters who dared to talk about the Winchesters in such a way.

In the distance she heard the men arguing who could play poker better, and she picked up the pace. She had just reached the back of the laundry room when she heard Bobby's voice inside.

"Sam's got me worried Elle."

Jo stopped and backtracked quietly until she was underneath the small laundry window.

"What did you expect Bobby? He's grieving. You know how close those boys were. All they had was each other," Jo heard her mom answer and was surprised by the tenderness she heard. "Give him time."

"I am," Bobby said gruffly. "If it wasn't for that damn demon Ruby, I would leave him be. I don't care what Sam's says – I don't trust her."

"What does she want from Sam?"

"Who knows? She keeps changing her story every time she changes her body." Jo pressed herself closer to the wall and slowly rose on her tiptoes until she could just make out Bobby through a small corner of the window. He was scratching the back of his head and his truckers cap was wedged in the back of his jeans. "I don't understand why Sam won't just be done with Ruby already, it's not like she followed through with helping him get Dean out of his deal."

"Maybe Sam's just clinging to her because he's clinging to the idea that he can bring Dean back?"

"Yeah…maybe," Bobby replied and hung his head low.

"Do you think he can do it?" Ellen asked quietly. "Bring Dean back I mean?"

"If it was anybody else I would say no." Bobby answered suddenly sounding older than he really was. "But Ellen, I don't see how? It's been months now, his body…," he paused and Jo held her breath. "There wasn't much left of him. If he came back he'd… no… there is no way."

Jo watched as her mom wrapped an arm around Bobby and pulled him into a comforting hug. They remained still for a few moments until Jo saw Bobby move his head back slightly. He reached a hand to Ellen's face and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. They gazed at one another for a few minutes and Jo held her breath as Ellen tilted her head. Bobby leaned forward slowly and kissed her.

Jo's cell phone blasted REO Speedwagon from her pocket.

Franticly, Jo whirled around and fumbled for her phone, already running away from the side of the house. She didn't dare look over her shoulder. Yanking her phone free from her jeans, she answered breathlessly, "Hello?"

"Jo."

"Sam?" Jo gasped, surprised. "Sam, are you OK?"

"I'm still alive if that's what you mean."

"Sam, I'm really glad you called me. I –"

"Hang on… Yeah Ruby in a minute… What did you say Jo?"

Jo froze in place as she recognized the irritated female voice in the background. _Ruby._ Jo frowned as she realized that the girl who had been so rude on the phone, had actually been Ruby. Jo tightened her grip around her phone. "Listen Sam, where are you?"

"Why?"

"Because I-"

"I don't know Ruby! Try the glove compartment…. Jo… listen, I can't talk right now..."

"Wait, Sam! Tell me where you are–" Jo shouted franticly, but Sam interrupted her.

"I'll call you later, Ok?" The call disconnected and Jo growled with frustration. Before she could hit redial, she heard her name being called.

Jo turned around and saw her mom striding towards her.

"Jo… honey, about what you saw back there… I…"

Jo stuffed her phone back in her pocket. "Saw what?"

"Look Bobby and I… well… we are… what I mean is…"

Jo couldn't bear to watch her normally calm mother, look so flustered. "It's OK, Mom," she said gently and forced a smile for her. "Really, It's great_._"

Ellen didn't look convinced. She worried away at her bottom lip. "Are you sure?" Ellen asked searching her face for a sign that Jo was lying. "I know we've never really talked about this. I was worried that maybe," She paused and bit her lip. "Why did you run off?"

"My phone rang," Jo hurried to explain. The truth was that while it had been a shock to see her mom making out with someone, Jo was secretly glad that if it was anybody she was glad it was Bobby. "I thought it was a job call and I didn't want you to know that'd I'd seen you two."

"Oh." Jo almost laughed at how relived her mom looked. "Well if you are sure you are OK? We can talk about it-"

"I'm fine," she insisted and headed back towards the roadhouse. "Come on, let's get inside before Louie figures out where I hid the rest of the beers."

***

Two weeks later Jo sat on the front porch with her phone in her lap, waiting for the furniture truck to arrive. Ernie and Louie had headed out on their own new hunts, and Ellen was in town picking up supplies. The weather had finally started to become warmer, and she was sitting out in the sun trying to tan over the top of her scars.

A truck rumbled by, but didn't stop, and she started to bounce her feet up and down. Jo was bored. After helping finish the rooms upstairs, and installing the bar counter, she'd ran out of things to clean. Last week she'd moved her things into the room at the front of the roadhouse and tried to ignore the fact that her mother was calling it 'her' room.

She sighed. She couldn't stay here any longer. While it was nice to have home cooked meals every night, and save some money (most of the hunters really were bad at poker), she was already feeling edgy and trapped. Jo didn't like feeling trapped.

Sam had not kept his word about calling her back. In fact, as days turned into a week, she gave up waiting. Jo frowned and flicked a curious ant off her leg. With a groan, she lay down on the porch, and turned her head to stare at the clouds. '_How can I lay here knowing there is so much work to be done?'_ She bit her lip as another thought claimed her mind. '_How can I lay here when Dean is in hell screaming for help?'_

The answer was she couldn't.

The sun disappeared behind a fluffy white cloud and she reflected on the things Bobby has said to her mom a couple of weeks ago. She wondered if Sam was any closer to saving Dean from hell, or if Sam had been distracted by Ruby. She frowned.

'BEEP!BEEP!'

Pulled from her thoughts, Jo looked up to see the furniture truck arrive. She stood up to open the roadhouse doors for the delivery guys. "You Ellen Harvelle?" The overweight guy in dusty pair of jeans called out.

"I'm her daughter," Jo corrected and took the paperwork he handed her. She spent the next twenty minutes helping them carry the beds and furniture into the roadhouse, and then offered them cold drinks for their hard work. They took them gratefully and hit the road, leaving her to pull all the plastic sheets off the furniture.

By the time Ellen came home, Jo had made the firm decision to leave the roadhouse and continue hunting the next day.

* * *

Thoughts? Comments? Would love to hear your opinions!

I know that chapter might feel a little slow, but it's building towards something big. So please don't abandon me yet!


	4. Chapter 4

**Rating:** PG

**A/N:** (see bottom for notes) Thanks for the reviews today - you all make my day and encourage me to write faster. I love hearing your thoughts and theories too, so keep 'em coming!

* * *

'**Play it the way you feel it'**

It was nightfall by the time Jo turned into Bobby's driveway. She parked her truck beside his aging car and grabbed her duffle bag. To say that her mom hadn't been happy about her leaving so soon was an understatement. Jo hadn't bothered arguing and had simply listened to Ellen rant and rave about how dangerous hunting was, and how Ellen had thought that Jo had finally come to her senses, and moved home. After half an hour her mom had run out of steam and stopped yelling and insisted that Jo spend at least one night at Bobby's on her way to the new hunt.

Jo reluctantly agreed. Before she knew it, her Mom had packed her car with brownies and cakes for Bobby. Jo was amused by her mother's obvious affection for the weathered hunter, and was secretly relieved that her mom wouldn't be alone anymore.

The front door swung open and Bobby came out to greet her. She threw her bag over her shoulder and pulled open the passenger door. "I hope you're hungry Bobby," she told him and revealed the box of sweet goods. "If you don't have diabetes now, you will by the time she's through with you."

"Watch it smartass. Try living on tin food for a couple of years and you'll find you'll kill a man for a brownie." Bobby picked up the box for her and followed her into the house. "The spare room upstairs is ready for you by the way."

"Bobby you didn't have to do that. I would've crashed on your couch," Jo insisted feeling embarrassed. "But, thank you." She stood awkwardly in the kitchen doorway while he pushed books and maps around, trying to clear a space on the kitchen table.

"Now don't be acting all weird now that you know about me and your mom," Bobby lectured, rummaging around inside the box. "I've known you since you could walk and regardless of who is dating your mom you've always been family to me. So stop being an idjit and help me cook dinner."

Jo grinned and dropped her bag by the door. "Thanks, Bobby," she said softly. Her heart swelled with affection for the man. He was right; she had known him for a long time and was glad that he was a part of her life.

"Yeah, well… if you can cook half as good as your mom than there's hope for you yet." Bobby told her between bites of a brownie.

***

Putting the last clean plate away, Jo went to the sink and pulled the plug out. The suds swirled down the sink with a loud gurgle and she rejoined Bobby at the table. She reached for one of his beers, but he shoved a soda bottle at her instead. "Gotta have a clear head in the morning," he grunted at her and didn't look up from the book he was reading.

Jo sighed, but took the soda bottle and pulled the top off. "What are you reading?" she asked him, trying to catch a glance at the writing.

"Latin," he grunted and shut the book. "Nothing useful in it anyway." He took a sip of his beer and leant back in his chair, looking thoroughly exhausted. "Your mom tells me that Sam called you."

"She what?" Jo asked startled. "How does she-?"

"You shouldn't leave your phone lying around where snooping mothers can find them," Bobby said simply and continued to drink his beer. "I'm glad you at least got a call." There was no mistaking the bitterness in his voice.

"If you could call mine a phone call," Jo assured him, glaring at her soda bottle. She began to butcher the soda label with her fingernail. "He probably would've said more if Ruby hadn't dragged him away."

"You know, Ruby?" Bobby asked, looking surprised.

Jo shook her head. "Only what I've heard, and what I'd heard is she's a manipulative bitch."

"She certainly knows how to..._motivate_ Sam," Bobby agreed and burped into his fist. "Your mom thinks it's Sam's way of dealing. I think its bullshit. I don't think he's dealing at all. I think he's hiding behind her skirt and letting her call the shots." Bobby let out a heavy sigh. "Idjit," he muttered under his breath.

Jo nodded and took a sip of her soda. She swallowed slowly and stared at the book on the table. "Hey, Bobby?"

"Yeah?"

Jo desperately wanted to ask what had happened when Dean had died, but was too afraid to ask. Instead, she shook her head. "Never mind."

"Sure," Bobby mumbled and shifted in his seat. "So… gimme the brief of your next hunt," he asked her, deliberately changing the topic.

Jo explained the newspaper articles she found, and the sightings in the area that had convinced her of a small population of Vampires setting up in a farmhouse.

"Three Vampires? Jo are you nuts?" Bobby exclaimed, thumping his beer down on the table.

"It's fine, Bobby," Jo promised. "I'm fully prepared. I know what to expect."

Bobby continued to stare at her like she had grown two heads, until finally, he took a deep breath and leant back in his chair. "Listen Jo, I'm not saying you can't do this, but three vampires are a lot to deal with for even the most experienced hunters. You shouldn't be doing this hunt on your own."

"Well it's not like I'm going to stop at the gas station, and pick up some gum and a partner I can trust."

Bobby didn't respond. Instead he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "So we gonna avoid the real topic about why you haven't been yourself the last couple of months?"

"How many brownies did my mom promise you to get some information?"

"Now don't go getting your panties in a twist," Bobby snapped. He raised an eyebrow at her. "You know as well as I do, that you've been in a funk even before Dean died. The hunting community is filled with gossip, Jo and there isn't much that I miss."

She ignored him.

"Jo, I heard about what happened in Nevada, and I can damn well see what Tennessee was like by the scars on your legs." Jo frowned. "I need to know that this new hunt isn't just you going through the motions of hunting. You can't afford to go out there half hearted." He reached over and touched her hand.

"S'nothing." She mumbled and tried to avoid his eyes. "I've just been tired lately."

"Tired?" Bobby repeated. He took the soda out of her hand and placed it on the table. "Jo, I can't let you go out there if I think you're not coming back."

"Will you stop worrying? You're as bad as Mom," she accused, looking up at him finally.

Bobby frowned. "Jo-"

"I wasn't ready!" She blurted out, feeling ashamed. The emotions that had been boiling away deep inside of her flared up, and before she knew what was happening, she was confessing her most private thoughts. "I was out there killing evil and I thought for a split second that maybe I was making a difference, that I was helping to make the world safer." She shook her head disappointed. "I know I'm too young, too inexperienced. My kills barely registered in the grand scheme of things. But after Ash… it's just… it's always going to be one step forward, six steps back."

"So quit," Bobby said bluntly.

She shook her head. "I can't. How could I sleep at night knowing what's out there and knowing that I can help stop it? How could I possibly settle down and have a family with the knowledge in the back of mind that eventually, the demons will catch up with me, and take everything I have in a split second?" She paused, not sure if she could say Dean's name without betraying herself. "After _he_ died I was still OK with it. I was still fighting, maybe harder than ever. But a couple of week ago I got a glimpse at where he was, and it was too much." She looked down at her feet and gently whispered, "How can we possibly win when there is so many of them?"

When Bobby didn't answer, she looked up to discover his brow was furrowed deep in thought. "What do you mean 'a glimpse'?" he asked.

She shook her head. "It's nothing. A nightmare. I dreamt of Dean in hell and it was…" Jo screwed up her face; she couldn't describe the horror of it all. "I must be seriously twisted to have imagined it Bobby. It was sickening."

"Is that what the sudden change in faith is about?" he queried. Jo was confused, until he pointed at the necklace she was wearing. Bobby reached forward and lifted it from her skin. He twisted the dainty cross so he could see the back of it and squinted at the engraving. "Romans 12:21?"

"Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good," she explained softly. "I looked it up. The necklace came with the inscription."

He didn't say anything. He just dropped the necklace and sat back in his chair. "I'm not going to sugar coat it for you. It's bad out there and it's probably going to get worse before it gets better. I know you are overwhelmed by it all. All of us get like that from time to time. No one would think any less of you for wanting out of this life-" He held up his hand when she opened her mouth to protest. "I myself have had my moment when I've thought the sacrifices aren't worth it. But then I tell myself to take it one case at a time. You got that?"

Jo nodded, and her fingers entwined with her necklace as she pulled the cross back and forth. "One case at a time," she repeated softly.

Bobby let out a tired sigh. He lifted his trucker hat, scratched the top of his head and looked pensive. Jo watched him, fascinated. He shut his eyes for a moment and seemed to be making a decision. Finally he opened his eyes again. "Ok, hear me out a second alright? As a favor to me… can't you take Sam with you on this one? The kid needs to clear his head and he's got a lot of experience with Vampires."

"Bobby, no," Jo moaned shaking her head. "He's not going to want to do this. I don't know if he even can after…"

"But a hunt is what that boy needs right now. He needs to be doing something, _anything_ other than sitting a hotel room waiting for death!"

Jo looked at Bobby. "Is he really that bad?"

"I had prepared myself for how Dean had reacted. Dean was a mess when Sam died; he was so angry and so lost. But Sam…he just shut down. He's cold and scary quiet. I've seen zombies with more life in them." He paused, glancing around the room as if gathering memories from the walls. "Dean and I talked about this, and he said I had to do what ever I could to help Sam once he was gone. But I've done all I can Jo, so now I'm asking for _your_ help."

Jo bit her lip, her throat suddenly thick with unshed emotion and she knew before she answered, that she would do whatever he asked of her; whether she liked it or not. "Bobby, please don't ask me to do this."

"Come on Jo, Sam's always liked you. He called you didn't he?"

Jo frowned. "But…" She looked into Bobby's eyes and groaned. She narrowed her eyes at him. "Fine. I'll try Bobby, but I really don't see why he'll listen to me over you."

"Because Dean-" He suddenly cut himself off and avoided her suspicious gaze. "Just trust me, Ok?" he finished. "Talk to Sam, that's all I ask. Just try Jo, I know that when you put your mind to something you can be ruthless."

Jo shook her head sadly. "You're wrong Bobby," she tried to explain. "I don't always get what I want."

She looked up when she heard a chuckle. "I wouldn't be so sure of that." He suddenly got up from the table, and headed over to a shelf crammed with books. He pushed aside a stack of dusty, red, leather bound textbooks and fumbled behind a few books. She watched him curiously. After a lot of tugging, he finally pulled something free from the shelf.

The object he carried towards her was wrapped inside an old blue flannel shirt. It was slightly longer than Bobby's hand, and he handed it to her gently. Jo was surprised by how light the object was. "What's this?" she asked placing it on the table.

"Open it and you'll find out," Bobby told her mysteriously.

Jo glanced at him, before unwrapping the flannel shirt. She sucked in a breath. Her fingers clutched at the cloth when it's final layer revealed a hunting knife. The mother of pearl colored handle glinted in the low light, as she lifted it to analyze the five inch long silver blade. Jo instantly recognized the knife as the same one Dean had tried to convince her to use in place of her fathers knife in Philadelphia. Her throat tightened as her eyes discovered the tiny initials engraved into the base of the blade.

'D.W'

Having seen the amazement in her eyes Bobby chuckled. "It's a piece of work isn't it?" he asked her. All Jo could do was nod dumbly. "He instructed me to pass it on to you, but not in front of Ellen." Bobby smirked and finished his beer. "Funny though, he's never engraved his initials in any of his weapons before."

Jo couldn't speak. Every time she opened her mouth to say something, no words would follow and she would close her mouth again. She ran her fingers down the blade slowly, almost affectionately, memorizing each curve and nick. She fell in love with the unblemished handle. It was so light and it fit perfectly in her small hand.

"Well, I'll leave you two alone to bond," Bobby teased, taking his now empty bottle and her abandoned soda. She heard him mutter something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like 'birds of a feather', but she ignored him. As soon as Bobby left the room, she brought the make shift wrapping paper to her nose and inhaled Dean's signature scent greedily.

It was an hour later before her head had stopped spinning and her heartbeat had returned to normal. She dragged herself upstairs to bed. For the first time in weeks, Jo welcomed sleep without hesitation, knowing that the nightmares would be kept at bay by a pearl colored shield hidden under her pillow.

Jo fell asleep with a smile of her face.

***

The next morning, Jo was up before sunrise with new enthusiasm in her step. She bounced down the stairs and found Bobby immersed in a newspaper, a pot of coffee beside him. "Mornin'," she called to him softly and opened the fridge. She rummaged around inside it, until she found a container of orange juice. She peered suspiciously at the expiration date and sniffed the juice.

"Relax Goldilocks, I bought it a couple of days ago," he said not looking up from his papers. Jo grinned and shut the fridge. Heading over to the counter, she poured herself a glass. "I see you're in a good mood."

"Yeah." Jo admitted without giving him an explanation. Jo enjoyed being around Bobby. He had a good sense of humor, and unlike her mom, he didn't hover over her.

"Probably should have given you that gift a month ago, huh? But then again someone was too busy to answer her phone," Bobby said circling something in the newspaper. Jo watched him in the reflection in the window above the sink. He shifted in his seat slightly and bent closer to the newspaper squinting. She had no doubt that the man needed reading glasses, but she would be the last person to tell him so.

"So have you got an address for me?" Jo asked, after a mouthful of orange juice. "I doubt his pitbull is going to give me their location if she answers the phone again."

A grin twitched at Bobby's bearded mouth. "I would watch yourself around her, Jo. Her bite is a lot meaner than her bark."

"I could so take her." Jo grinned, and finished off her juice.

"Jo," Bobby warned.

"Relax. I'll be on my best behavior… unless she starts something."

Bobby groaned. "That's all I need; a supernatural cat fight. You best bite your tongue around her, Jo. If you want to get through to Sam, you're going to have to fake nice to Ruby like the rest of us." He narrowed his eyes at Jo. "Are we clear?"

"Yeah, Yeah."

"Joanna Beth!"

"Okay, Mom. I promise."

"Good," he huffed and picked up his newspaper again. "One head case down, one junior Winchester to go." He peeked over his newspaper and grinned at her. Jo returned his grin and stole a sip of his coffee.

"You know if you get sick of hunting Bobby, you could give Dr Phil a run for his money."

Bobby hit her with his newspaper gently and admonished her, "With the way my life goes Kid. I'd be Springer."

By lunchtime, Jo was on the road with Sam's address tucked neatly in her pocket. She had eventually assured Bobby she was more determined than ever to fight evil, and he wished her good luck. Something inside her had changed, she acknowledged, but she didn't quite know what it meant.

Inserting her favorite CD, she increased her speed as she joined the highway. Her stomach was riot with butterflies. She hadn't seen Sam since Duluth, and a part of her would always be aware of the size and power he could inflict on her tiny frame. She didn't know what condition she would find Sam in when she finally arrived, but all she knew was that regardless of his mental state; she was there to help him.

She'd promised.

* * *

**Notes:** I was going to post this chapter on friday, but I couldn't help myself when you guys asked for a quick update. I'm trying to pace the postings out since I'm currently working on chapter 15, and I don't want any long waits in between chapters. Don't panic though, I do have the outline complete and I know exactly how it will end, I just have to write as quick as I can.

Also the knife that Bobby handed along to Jo is supposed to be the one Dean showed Jo in 'Not Exit'. I just smudged the description of the knife a bit to suit me. :D So let's all just pretend that the one he showed her had a mother of pearl handle. Okies?


	5. Chapter 5

**Rating:** M (for language)

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'**I Never Liked You'**

"That'll be $46.90 thank you, Miss." Jo was shaken from her thoughts when the gas attendant spoke. Giving him an apologetic smile, she gave him a fifty-dollar note, and told him to keep the change. Picking up her water bottle, she headed outside to her truck. She glanced at the directions in her hand again, and tried to make sense of them. Jo wished Bobby had drawn a map, because the directions he had given her were complicated and sketchy.

Climbing into her truck, she put the bottle into the middle console, and put the directions on the passenger seat. Starting the vehicle, she turned back onto the highway. The instructions told her to travel north for ten minutes, and turn at a gap in the trees. Sure enough after ten minutes, she spotted the gap in the trees on the other side of the road. Slowing down and pulling to the right, she waited until two cars had passed, before making a wide U turn. She quickly turned onto the dirt road leading between the gap in the trees, and drove up a small hill. Jo glanced around her surroundings warily. The dirt road narrowed, and she struggled to make out the road through the overgrown grass and bushes. An overhanging branch clipped the roof of her truck and she cursed loudly.

"God, I hope I'm going the right way," she muttered to herself, continuing along at a slower speed. Towering trees, lining either side of the road like scowling soldiers, provided her with very little confidence that she was going the right way. Jo switched the trucks controls into off road mode, and slowly inched the car forward into a gauntlet of rocks and logs.

Mud splattered onto the windscreen and she switched the wipers on. Finally, a dirt track reappeared, and she switched the car back into gear while she climbed the steep hill. Once at the top, she discovered she was at a crossroads. After checking the directions, she turned left. Two minutes down the road, she was surprised to find the forest drop away and lush farmland now lined the right side of the road.

Jo continued to be frustrated by the strange directions while she searched for the street sign that would lead her to her next turn off. Hidden behind an old oak tree, she spotted the sign and turned onto yet another dirt road. Farmland now lined both sides of the road, and seemed to stretch all the way to the horizon. She turned her stereo up and took a sip of her water.

The directions on the scrap of paper said to travel straight for an hour, until she reached a broken windmill. Then she was instructed to turn left and travel another ten minutes, until she reached a white broken fence. Bobby explained that she should take the road that veered off to the left and the house was at the bottom of the hill.

"Ok, looking for a Windmill…. Windmill…. Windmill…Oh! There it is." She turned and followed the dirt road. She wondered vaguely what Sam was doing so far off the beaten track when he could have easily holed up in some cheap motel.

The farm paddocks eventually gave way to forest again, and she found the white broken fence popping out of nowhere. She couldn't make out two roads, so she followed the only road she could until the road suddenly split into a fork. She slowed the truck down to a crawl. The road became increasingly bumpy and uneven, and Jo was glad all her weapons were secured in the back and weren't rattling around in the tray.

She had just started to climb up a steep hill when she saw it. A black 67 Impala covered in mud, looking lonely and abandoned at the top of the hill. She reached the top, and stopped the truck when she realized the road had dissolved. In its place was a small foot track.

Parking her car beside the Impala, she climbed out of the truck. Jo peered through the Impala's dirty window. Apart from the array of empty burger wrappers in the backseat, it was empty. Jo suspected that if Dean could see his beloved Impala in such a messy state, he would have thrown a tantrum that would impress even the most stubborn two year old.

Shaking her head, she headed to the back of her truck. She pulled out her small pistol from the gun rack and tucked it into the waistband of her jeans. The knife Dean had given her was already strapped in a secure sheath to her calf. Her dad's knife was in its usual position in her back pocket.

Jo took a deep breath, and prepared herself. The last of the afternoon's sunlight was disappearing fast, so she grabbed her flashlight, locked her truck and headed down the track warily.

Halfway down, she spotted a decaying Victorian styled house. A few shingles on the roof were missing and cracked, but all of the windows were replaced with rotting boards. As Jo inched closer, she noticed that a lot of the surrounding trees had claimed the left side of the house, and had weaved their branches inside. The picket fence, that had probably once looked beautiful and quaint, had all but collapsed. She stepped over them carefully.

Jo had just started to wade through thigh high grass, when she heard screaming. She pulled her gun from her waistband, and sprung through the grass. Reaching the door, she found it was already jammed open.

She paused.

The screams were distinctly male in origin, and she slowly crept down the hallway. A large hole in the wall provided her with a secure view of the scene before her.

A police officer, bleeding and whimpering in pain, was bound roughly to a wooden chair. His hands, twisted at an odd angle, were tied behind his back. A shadow slid past the hole she was peering through, and Jo raised her gun in preparation.

"Tell me what you know!" Sam hollered storming towards the slumped man and shaking his shoulders. "Tell me how to find Lilith or I'll kill you."

The man, who had been whimpering, started to laugh. Sam growled and backhanded the man. The force caused the chair to buckle, and the man fell backwards onto the floor howling with laughter.

"Sam! Just do it, he doesn't know anything." Jo spied a short brunette in her early twenties reaching for Sam. She placed a hand on his bicep, and murmured something Jo couldn't hear.

"Fine." Sam nodded his head, and extended his large palm towards the man. His eyes closed, and Jo watched with horrified eyes as he began to mutter in Latin. The bound man stopped laughing, and as he began to struggle against the ropes, he began to choke. Jo stared at Sam; he shook almost feverishly. Sam took another step forward, his outstretched arm shaking. A thin trail of blood broke free from his nose.

The bound man continued to cough and gag painfully. Jo nearly lost the grip on her gun; black smoke spewed from the man's mouth and nose. The house started to shake violently, and Jo looked up at the ceiling with trepidation. Bits of plaster came loose, a particularly large piece missing her shoulder by mere millimeters. She turned back in time to see the last of the black smoke slither from the man, and pool on the floor. With a muffled hiss, the smoke dissolved between the cracks in the floorboards.

Jo brought a hand to her mouth in shock. _'What in God's name was that?'_ Sam finally opened his eyes, his body swaying dangerously with fatigue. The brunette ran to his side and tried to catch him, but Sam fell awkwardly to his knees, panting for breath. The bound police officer was sprawled lifelessly on the ground. "No… I'm fine," Sam gasped out to the girl. "Check his pulse."

The girl did as she was instructed, while Sam wiped blood and perspiration from his face. Jo spied the brunette pulling the rope free from the officer, and watched as she placed her fingers against his bloodied throat. She shook her head. "I'm sorry Sam, we'll save the next one."

Jo felt herself go cold. She looked on with morbid fascination as the girl flocked to Sam's side, and wound her arms around him. "No… Ruby… don't…" Sam huffed out as she began to drape kisses around his face.

_Ruby._

Finally able to move again, Jo lowered her hand from her mouth. The brunette pulled her shirt over her head, oblivious to her audience, and tugged at Sam's arms. Jo looked away. Shocked and rather confused, she started to back slowly away from the wall so as to not alert them to her presence. She glanced at the door and was about to make a run for it when she heard Sam moan. Jo looked up, and was taken aback. Sam growled and threw Ruby to the ground, his teeth latching onto her breast hungrily.

Jo gasped. Hand flying to her mouth, she waited for the two to discover her standing by the door - but neither of them noticed her. Relieved, Jo was about to make her escape when something silver glinted out of the corner of her eye. Jo realized with horror that Ruby was holding a serrated knife above her head. Sam continued to devour her body, oblivious to the weapon now inches above his head, and Ruby brought the knife down.

Jo's raised her pistol, and fired through the hole.

The bullet pierced Ruby's shoulder with precise aim, and the demon howled with pain. Startled, Sam jumped to his feet, snatching his own weapon from the floor.

"What the fuck?" Ruby growled, clutching at her shoulder in shock. She sat up, her eyes filled with black vengeance. Jo sprung out from behind the wall, and kept her gun pointed at Ruby. "Who the hell are you?"

"Jo?" Sam gaped at her, and lowered his weapon.

"She was trying to kill you," Jo explained, her eyes never leaving Ruby's. "I saw the knife."

"Who the hell is she?" Ruby questioned with a snarl, glaring at Sam and then Jo.

"Jo, it's okay. Ruby is my… erm…friend… she wasn't trying to kill me," Sam rushed to explain. He made to move towards her, but Jo aimed the gun at him instead. He raised his hands immediately. "Woah, Easy."

Jo saw movement out of the corner of her eye, and turned to see Ruby attempting to lunge for her. She fired. Ruby collapsed back to the ground cursing, and writhing in agony. Her hand flew to the new injury further down her arm. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" Ruby shouted.

"Shut your piehole," Jo commanded with a growl, and kept her gun aimed at Ruby. She looked at Sam for an explanation. "What the hell is going on?"

"Jo, calm down-"

"I am calm!" She snapped back at him.

"What the hell did you shoot me with? It fucking _hurts,_" Ruby complained. She had snatched up her t-shirt from the floor and pressed it firmly against the seeping wound.

"Jo, please," Sam begged, his voice calm and soothing. His eyes swept from Ruby to Jo. "Just lower the gun and we can talk about this."

"How about I stay where I am, and you start talking?" Jo insisted, her arm never once wavering. "Let's start with _Have you lost your freakin' mind?_"

"Jo, listen… it's not what you think."

"Really?" Jo stiffened when he lowered his hands, and made to move towards Ruby. "Hey," she warned through gritted teeth. "Don't move."

"Jo… let me help her."

"She's a frickin' demon Sam, who gives a crap?" Jo snapped. "What are you doing here, Sam?"

Sam ignored her question, and took his shirt off. He crouched down to wrap it around Ruby's arm. Jo frowned at his actions, but did not lower her gun from Ruby. Ruby glared venomously up at her.

"What are in these bullets?" Ruby hissed as Sam applied pressure to Ruby's wounds.

"Kryptonite," Jo answered sarcastically. "Sam, you need to come with me."

"Jo, please - you don't understand-"

"What I understand," Jo said through clenched teeth. "Is that you have either lost your mind, or you're possessed again."

"Jo-"

"I saw you, Sam! I saw what you did to that man with my own eyes! And then you started to make out with a filthy demon-"

"Hey!" Ruby cried and made a futile attempt to stand up. Jo watched with satisfaction as Ruby's shifted her body to the left, desperately trying to climb her feet. The demon struggled to control her shaking limbs, and began snarling and clutching her arm in pain.

"What's wrong with her?" Sam asked looking concerned.

Jo clenched her teeth harder, making the decision that the demon no longer offered any threat to her, and she lowered her weapon. "I put holy water and rock salt in the bullets. I find it's quiet effective for putting skanky demons on their ass."

"Oh, that's it! Bring it Barbie!" Ruby pushed against Sam for leverage and threw herself onto her knees. She swayed dangerously, and wobbled about like a new born calf trying to use its legs for the first time. Jo raised an eyebrow at her, and relished in the demons pathetic attempt to stand.

"Do you want a matching hole in your ass?" Jo threatened when Ruby finally managed to stay upright on her knees.

"Jo… don't," Sam pleaded, and pulled Ruby back down. "If you just stop and listen to me for a second-"

"Maybe I'd be in a better mood to talk Sam, if you'd pick up the damn phone once in a while - or better yet, you could explain to Bobby what it is that you think you are doing."

"Look, I've been busy and-"

"Busy?" Jo exploded, glaring at him. "Sam, for Christ's sake!" Jo took a small amount of pleasure as Ruby flinched at the name. "This isn't like you've gone away to college. I can't believe you're doing this - especially after everything that happened with Dean."

"Hello? Bleeding to death here," Ruby interrupted, eyeing Sam as his shoulders stiffened at the mention of his deceased brother. "Can we reminisce another time?"

"It's alright Ruby, we're done here," Sam said darkly, casting a warning look at Jo, and wrapped an arm around Ruby waist. He gently eased her to her feet, deliberately ignoring Jo's furious exclamation. Ruby smirked over Sam's shoulder at Jo.

"We are not done here, Sam," Jo replied defiantly. "Not until you explain yourself."

"He doesn't have to explain his actions to anyone," Ruby hissed. "Least of all you."

"Heal, mutt." Jo spat, earning another murderous glare from the demon. "Or I'll put you down myself."

"Stop it!" Sam cried, holding a struggling Ruby back. "Jo - just get the hell out of here." Sam pointed to the door. "Tell Bobby I will call him later."

"I'm not your messenger boy," Jo snapped, her temper getting the better of her. She ground her teeth as she watched Sam guide Ruby to a chipped table. He picked her up and set her down gently on top of the table. Jo felt sick to her stomach at how tender he was with her. Before she could stop herself, her mouth opened, "I can't believe Dean sacrificed his soul for you."

Sam's head snapped towards her, and Jo noted that even Ruby looked taken aback at what she had said. Too angry to apologize, she met his gaze determined. "Don't you dare," he warned her, his voice dark and his eyes flashing with pain. "I'm giving you one chance to get the fuck out of here or-"

"Or what? The truth hurt Sam?" Jo challenged, her finger tightening around her gun. "Dean gave up _everything_ for you and is rotting in hell _because_ of you and this is how you repay him? You slut it up with demons and do God only knows what with those powers."

"Shut up!" Sam snapped stepping away from Ruby. Ruby held his bicep in a lame attempt to keep him restrained, but Jo doubted she'd be able to stop Sam even if she wanted to. Jo swallowed nervously, but refused to show him she was unnerved. "You don't know the first thing about Dean," he told her.

Jo glared up at him. "I know enough to know he'd be disappointed in you right now and that he'd be disgusted by what you're doing with her."

"Listen psycho Barbie, you better leave before I rip that mouthy tongue out of your skull and eat it for breakfast," Ruby promised, with a predatory look in her eye.

"I'd like to see you try," Jo dared her.

"Your little crush on Dean is pathetic you know," Ruby taunted, her smile widening when Jo squared her shoulders defensively. The younger Winchester turned his head, and gave the demon a warning look. Ruby ignored him, her evil smile widening. "You think you're so brave playing with grow up toys, and talking about things your pretty little head couldn't possibly know about. But sweetie, you're so out of league here that you should do us all a favor, and go home. Go back to school, and write in your little diary about how peachy keen Dean is, and let us adults get on with our jobs."

Jo growled, her lips curling and she took a threatening step towards Ruby. Sam stepped forward, blocking her from reaching Ruby, and bent his face so close to Jo, that she could smell the whiskey and the blood rolling off him in waves. She gulped. Flash backs of Duluth swam before her mind, and Jo knew how easily things could turn. "Just do what she said - go home."

"Fine." She glared up at him. "I bet your father is real proud of you now, Sam." She snapped icily and whirled on her heel and stomped out of the house.

Halfway up the hill she broke into a run and sprinted to her truck. She reversed and sped down the track, nearly knocking herself unconscious when her head smacked against the window after dipping into a ditch. She drove recklessly down the hill, tears streaming down her face. She wiped the tears away angrily with her sleeve. She had promised herself that she would not cry over a Winchester again, but the anger continued to burn white hot in her stomach, and she couldn't do anything to stop the tears.

As soon as she reached the old windmill, she pulled the car over to the side of the road. Her heart ached, and she hugged the steering wheel in agony. Tears of humiliation, anger and disgust spilled from her face and onto her sleeves. After a few minutes she leant back in her seat trying to gain control. Ruby's words stung in her brain, and she angrily punched the steering wheel repeatedly.

"How could you, Sam?" she whispered.

* * *

As always - your thoughts, comments and theories are always appreciated and encouraged!


	6. Chapter 6

**Rating: **M (for language)

**Warnings:** Character death

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'**Calm Before the Storm'**

Bobby paced back and forth in front of his desk while the phone continued to ring out. Wedging the phone in between his shoulder and his ear, he picked a book up from his desk, and moved to return it to the shelves. "Come on boy. Pick up the damn phone," he muttered, and nearly dropped the phone when Sam suddenly answered.

"Hey, Bobby."

"Sam! Are you alright?"

"I'm fine Bobby. I told you I wouldn't do anything stupid."

Bobby breathed a sigh of relief. "It's good to hear your voice, kid. I was worried when you didn't return any of my calls."

"Yeah… sorry," Sam answered half-heartedly. "What's up?"

"Has Jo shown up yet? She's not answering her phone."

"She did."

Bobby was instantly suspicious after detecting the irritated tone in Sam's voice. He swapped the phone to his other ear, and ran a frustrated hand over his face. "I take it that you decided not to go with her on the hunt?"

"Huh?"

"The vampire hunt," Bobby explained. "You know Sam, I thought you would've jumped at the chance to get your hands messy again. I think Jo is a very capable hunter, but seeing as it was her first nest, it would have been a good idea for you to show her the ropes."

"She wanted me to go hunting with her?" Sam sounded surprised.

"Didn't she tell you?"

"No… um it never got to that."

Bobby gripped the phone tightly. The headache that he had been fighting all evening finally set upon him with vengeance. He cursed himself for suggesting that Jo seek Sam's help. He knew he should have convinced her to let him assist her himself. "What do you mean by that?"

"If you had called me to tell me she was coming, and that she needed help with a hunt, then-"

"I tried!" Bobby cut in frustrated. "I've been calling you for weeks." Sam didn't respond - which only fuelled the suspicions in Bobby's mind. He lowered his voice, "What did you do?"

"I didn't _do_ anything," Sam insisted. "She showed up and saw Ruby and I... hunting… and she started lecturing me about Dean and…"

"Sam," Bobby hissed. For a second he considered throwing the phone across the room, but quickly thought better of it. He counted to ten silently before replying, "What did you say to her?"

"I told her to get lost."

"And? Why do I get the feeling that there's more to that story?" Bobby mused. "You idjit." He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. "You kids are gonna be the death of me."

"I'm sorry Bobby, it was bad timing and she shot Ruby and-"

"Oh, for crying out loud!" Bobby exclaimed. "I told her to keep her temper in check." Bobby let out an exasperated groan. "Alright, fine. How long ago did she leave? A couple of hours?"

"More like 2 days ago."

"Sam!!!!!"

"Bobby, I didn't know," Sam protested. "She took me by surprise and ok… I didn't handle it well and she started bitching at me and-"

"Oh, you'll be praying for bitch by the time I show up," Bobby threatened.

"Where was she headed?" Sam interjected. "Maybe she hasn't left yet? Maybe she's just in a motel somewhere doing more research."

"Sam, you better pray that she is," Bobby advised with a growl. "Get a pen, I'll give you the address."

***

"I don't see why I had to come," Ruby muttered sullenly in the passenger seat. "She shot _me_ remember?"

"Look I agree that she shouldn't have shot you-"

"Twice, Sam. She shot me _twice_!"

Sam bit his lip and reigned in his temper. "She thought you were going to kill me," he tried to explain gently. "She doesn't know you Ruby, you would have done the same if your positions were reversed."

Ruby didn't answer. Instead, she folded her hands over her chest and slumped back in her seat pouting. After a few moments of blissful silence she exhaled loudly. "Come on Sam, there are a million other things we could be doing right now. Chasing after some kid is just going to slow us down."

"She's not a kid," Sam insisted. "We're the same age."

"Could've fooled me. She looks twelve with all that blonde hair and cutsey curls." Ruby grunted. "Who is she anyway? With the way she was going on about your brother I would of thought she was his girlfriend, but I've never heard him mention her once."

"Her name is Joanna Harvelle. Her mom owned the Roadhouse in Nebraska before it burnt down," His grip tightened on the steering wheel. "Her father was a hunter."

"Great, so she's a hunter to please Daddy? What does he think of his daughter going around playing Lara Croft?"

"He's dead," Sam answered quietly. "Our dad's worked together on a case that ended with her dad being killed by a demon."

Ruby shrugged in response and stared out the window. "So where does Dean fit in?"

"You'd have to ask Dean that - but he'd never tell you." Sam smiled, but the smile never reached his eyes. "I pestered him about it for ages. I thought she'd be another girl in yet another town, but he didn't touch her."

"What? Is that a first for Dean or something?"

"He has some standards, Ruby," Sam reminded her. He grinned. "Not many, but some."

"That's the first real smile I've seen you wear in ages." Ruby voiced her relief and touched his cheek tenderly.

Sam brushed away her hand, and cleared his throat awkwardly. "Just… don't," he said gently.

The Impala filled with awkward silence. When Sam didn't resume talking Ruby let out a tired sigh. "So…" she prompted him. "Obviously this Jo girl likes him – what was his problem?" Ruby pressed and unfolded her arms. He raised a curious eyebrow at her and she frowned. "Not that I care," she muttered.

Sam smiled knowingly to himself. "I have no idea. It might have something to do with the fact that he was worried our job might get her killed. When Meg possessed me, she went after Jo, and tried to use her as bait for Dean. After that, he cut off all ties with her. Kept saying he didn't want her blood on his hands. I think he was seriously worried about history repeating itself."

"Well, he didn't do a very good job cutting off ties. She seemed very up to date with what's been happening," Ruby pointed out and rubbed her still tender shoulder. A thick ugly scab had formed where the bullet had pierced her skin and was sluggishly healing. "All I'm saying is she looked ready to march into hell and drag Dean out herself," She shrugged. "I still think she's a little wannabe, but you gotta admire that kind of dedication."

Sam nodded, his brow furrowed as he replayed Jo's words through his head. He flinched mentally at her final sentence and spoke up, "She's right though."

"About what?"

"About Dean."

"Sam, no." Ruby turned to him and clasped his bicep. Sam shook it off, still uncomfortable by her advances. She didn't appear to take offence, but looked at him pleadingly. "We've discussed this a million times. What we are doing is_ for_ Dean. We are going to get Lilith, Sam. I promise."

"I know," Sam nodded. "But-"

"You're reading too much into this Sam," She assured him. "I promise I wont open my mouth when we get there. I'll stay in the car and you can appease the little Buffy, ship her back to Bobby and we can go and finish what we started."

"That's if she's not dead already." He looked at her, guilt flashing in his eyes. "I swear Ruby, if she's-"

"She'll be fine," Ruby told him confidently. "With those trigger happy fingers she's probably having herself a little vampire BBQ as we speak."

***

Far off, in a neighbouring farmyard, a rooster announced the approaching sunrise.

Jo slowly arose from her crouched position behind a rotted tree trunk. She had arrived at the run down property housing the suspected vampire nest during the night. After a quick double check of her weapons, she'd scouted the perimeter of the house before settling in the thick tree line in wait for dawn.

Jo knew that while sunlight didn't kill the vampires, it did slow them down slightly and she was counting on that fact. Maintaining a constant surveillance of the house during the night, she was disappointed that there had been no sign of anything occupying the farmhouse.

Jo knew that despite the lack of activity, she wasn't reckless enough to storm inside guns a blazing. (Or knives, in this particular case.) Instead she waited until the sunrays slithered through the trees and enveloped the house, before making her move.

She kept close to the tree line while bringing up the rear of the house. Ducking low, she avoided the large bay window and crept under the window. Slowly, she reached the stairs that would take her to the front of the house, and tested the wooden staircase by placing a small amount of her weight on top it. It was sturdy and didn't moan under her feet.

She eased up the steps. Her back pressed against the house, she scanned the tree line and the exterior of the house for movement. Jo crept across the porch with measured steps. She paused. Resting her shoulder against the window frame, she slowly peered through a gap in the thick curtain. Everything inside the house was dark and still.

Jo swept past the window quickly to avoid being seen and waited by the door. During her surveillance, she had decided on the best entry point into the house. The back door was boarded and nailed shut and the only exit and entry to the house was the front door.

Holding her breath, she eased the door open. Her machete clutched tightly in hand, Jo slipped silently inside the house. Bottles of liquor and food wrappings littered the floor in the hallway. Jo kept her back to the wall and listened intently for any sign that she was not alone in the house.

Silently, with cautious steps, she continued to sweep the house for the occupants. Upon reaching the third empty room, she grew uneasy. She made one last sweep, checking behind doors and inside empty closets, but was disappointed. She made her way back to the front of the house confused.

The house was empty.

Evidence that someone had occupied the house was obvious, but as Jo reached the sitting room, she realised they were long gone. Angry with herself, and frustrated that she'd missed the vampires, she lowered her machete and started stomping towards the front door.

"Leaving so soon?"

Jo froze mid step and whirled around. A man dressed in a faded pair of blue overalls grinned back at her. Jo felt the necklace she had hidden under her shirt prickle against her chest. She knew before his eyes turned black and betrayed his real identity, that he was a demon.

"Surprise!" He greeted and waved at her. When she didn't respond he placed his hands on his hips. "Not much of a talker, are you?" The demon surmised rocking back and forth on his heels smugly. "Such a refreshing change for a hunter."

Jo kept her mouth shut and prepared herself to fight her way out of the house. She knew the machete was not going to be enough and wished she had thought to bring her shotgun.

"You just missed the previous tenants," he continued talking, taking a confident step towards her. Jo took a tentative step back and he smiled at her reaction. "A little birdy told me you were on your way - but she didn't tell me it would be this easy." He took another predatory step towards her. He chuckled when she raised her knife and bent her knees ready to pounce. "It's almost a waste of time…" He licked his lips and advanced on her. "But beggars can't be choosers."

The demon raised his left arm and Jo lunged forward. The knife sliced through his side easily and he howled in furry. Before she could move, he punched her and sent her crashing to the floor.

Jo rolled onto her side quickly before he could reach her. She sprung to her feet as his foot slammed down missing her by inches. Knife clutched in her hand, she dodged his fist and managed to send her boot crashing into his ribs. She heard the crunch and ducked before he could retaliate.

"Oh kitten, you're too cute for words," He leered and threw his body towards her. Jo didn't move in time, and was sent flying into the wall behind her. Bits of plaster and wood crashed to the floor and she felt the wind tumble from her lungs. He pressed his grubby hands into her throat and growled. Jo raised her knee to kick herself free, but he let go of her throat and grabbed hold of her leg and tossed her across the room.

Jo landed with a crunch and as she rolled away, she spat out blood. She picked up her knife and before she could blink, his hand was on her wrist. He snapped it backwards with unnatural strength.

She dropped to the floor howling in pain, the knife clattering to the floor. Hugging her right wrist to her body, she threw herself to her shaky knees and pulled Dean's knife free from the sheath around her calf. He lunged at her again and she imbedded the knife into his shoulder.

The demon cried out and snarled. His rotted teeth snapped at her throat and she used her knee to kick him backwards. While he was busy pulling the knife free, Jo made for the door. Before she could make it, he pulled her legs out from under her. She cried out, her weight crashing down on her broken wrist and he flipped her onto her back. Jo swung her leg at his head and managed to clock him in the eye with her heel. He grunted and threw himself on top of her. Straddling her hips, he pinned her struggling shoulders to the floor.

"Like taking candy from a baby," He crooned and placed his hand around her neck. Her left hand flew automatically to his arm, trying to pull his hand away, but he held firm. With his now free hand he pulled the knife free from his shoulder and plunged it deep into her stomach. Jo tried to scream but his grip around her neck caused her to cough and gag instead.

She clawed at his face with her remaining strength until he let go of her neck. He concentrated on twisting the knife with both hands and wrenched it towards her chest.

Jo saw nothing but red. Her whole body curled in agony and blood filled her mouth. She choked and spluttered, desperately trying to breathe. Her hand fell to the floor limply. Laughing he pressed his fingers into her now exposed stomach and tugged the knife higher.

"My, my, my. You're so much prettier on the inside, kitten," He crooned and shoved his fist inside her stomach. Jo couldn't have screamed even if she had wanted to. Her heart sent a crushing last surge against her broken ribs and her world went black....

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Okay - please don't hurt me for killing Jo *hides* Please trust me and don't run away yet.

For everyone who asked - Dean will be back after the next chapter!


	7. Chapter 7

**RATING:** M

**AN:** Ok, so is being pissy and wouldn't let me update, so hopefully this works. Also, I'd like to thank everyone who commented and didn't kill me for the last chapter. I appreciate it! Hopefully you are happy with this chapter. :D

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**'The End, Is The Beginning'**

Jo was startled awake by a shrill ringing in her ears. She tried to open her heavy eyes and was blinded by yellow light. She raised her hands to her face, the motion slow and almost sluggish.

"Joanna, open your eyes. I am here with you."

The familiar male voiced soothed her sensitive ears, and she squinted through her fingers. The light faded slowly, and her eyes adjusted enough for her to lower her hands. She felt a strong, cool hand soothe her hair back from her face, and she sighed his name, "Castiel."

"You are safe now."

She blinked slowly, trying to resist the urge to sleep, but the ground beneath her was so soft and sponge like, that she wanted nothing more than to close her eyes. Castiel leaned towards her, and pressed a small kiss to her forehead. His scent floated over her gently, and she was filled with memories of springtime in the meadow behind the Roadhouse. She smiled softly, feeling the soft edges of warmth wrap around her body. "Is it over?" she asked dreamily.

"Almost," he whispered pulling back from her. "I will take you home where you will be safe and at peace."

"But the demons will win," she complained softly. She reached up to smooth away the frown that had creased his pale features.

He seemed startled by her touch, and remained very still until she lowered her hand. His eyes dropped close for a moment, and when he opened them, his expression was tender. "Yes," he confirmed gently.

"What will happen to everybody?"

"You do not need to worry anymore Joanna, you can rest now if you like." He seemed to hesitate, and glanced over his shoulder briefly. Jo didn't know what he was looking at. All she could see was soft yellow light surrounding them. She knew this should frighten her, but she couldn't find it in her heart to care. It was warm and safe, and Castiel was with her. She couldn't explain why she trusted him, only that when he kissed her forehead, she experienced the kind of affection she associated with her long dead father. "Joanna?"

"Hmm?" She asked distracted by the light around them. It called to her gently, and she wanted to wrap herself in its warmth and forget.

"Would you like to rest now?" His eyes looking at her imploringly, and she found that the soft light around them suddenly sharpened and dissolved. Pain replaced the fog in her mind, and her stomach burned. She tried to look down at her body, but the pain exploded like fireworks in her skull and she closed her eyes.

"It hurts," she moaned.

"I can make it stop," he promised her, and she opened her eyes. The light had returned, and was almost mist like. Beyond the yellow mist she could just make out chipped wood, and chunks of plasterboard above her.

"He killed me," she realised, and Castiel nodded slowly. He ran his hand through her hair again, and the pain ebbed away slowly. She narrowed her eyes at him. "The demon was waiting for me. It was a trap."

"It was," Castiel confirmed and glanced behind his shoulder again. If Jo didn't know any better, she was sure there was someone standing behind him, calling out to him. The pain flared again, and Jo gritted her teeth trying to ignore it. The yellow light started to fill the room again, and she sighed happily as the pain receded. "Joanna, look at me."

She turned her head to look at him, and was startled by the intensity in Castiel's eyes. She squinted at him, the light faded again. The pain returned. Confused, she tried to move her head, but his hand stopped her. "What is happening to me?" she demanded, fear possessing her body.

"You are being given a choice, Joanna," he told her quietly. He cupped her face in his large hands, and his cool touch soothed the burning pain for a moment. "God is giving you a choice."

"What?" she breathed, surprised by his words.

He lowered his voice to a whisper, and glanced over his shoulder nervously. When he turned back to her she could tell that something was wrong. "You have been chosen, Joanna. We have been watching you, and we know that you are the one who will help us."

"You've been watching me?"

His eyes softened, and he lent towards her again. "I can take the pain away Joanna, and we can leave this all behind you, and you can join us in Heaven." Jo felt the yellow light return before she could see it, and she almost sighed at the smell of wildflowers floating past her nose. "Or," he paused and the light disappeared, and the pain overwhelmed her. She closed her eyes. "I can restore you, and you can fulfil your destiny."

"My destiny?" she asked suspiciously.

Castiel glanced over his shoulder again, leaning towards her until his lips were inches from her face. His voice was barely above a whisper. "There is little time Joanna, you need to make a choice. You can choose to come with me, or I can send you back and you can help us."

"I don't understand," she said, and the pain distracted her from his piercing gaze.

His hand sliding through the hair caused her to open her eyes, and focus on his face again. "Will you help us stop the demons from claiming the earth as their own? Will you help us save humanity?"

Jo narrowed her eyes at him. "Stop the demons? How? What do you want me to do?"

"There is a prophecy Joanna, I can not tell you what it is right now – someone might be listening," he hissed. "If I send you back it wont be easy, but you are strong Joanna and we believe that you can help us."

Jo felt the gravity of his words, and gripped on to the devotion washing through her. She knew her mind had been made as soon as he mentioned the demons. How could she deny something so powerful and so wonderful, when she knew she could help defeat evil? She had no doubt that whatever Castiel had in mind for her wouldn't be easy. But hadn't she been working her whole life towards this? She closed her eyes and prepared herself. "Send me back."

His breath whispered across her and she opened her eyes. A sad smile barely grazed his lips, and his eyes searched her face, looking for doubt or concern. "You must understand that this is no simple task. What we will ask of you is complete devotion and allegiance to the Lord, and that in reflection, death would have been the easier alternative."

Jo nodded.

"If I send you back it will not be like before. You can not return to your normal life."

"I had a normal life?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. He seemed to hesitate while he stared down at her. Jo placed her hand to his face, and gave him a reassuring smile. "I'm ready."

"No one will think less of you if you refuse," he rushed to assure her. Jo didn't understand his hesitation. Deep inside her chest her heart flickered with fear - what ever they had planned for her she knew it was going to be bad, but she didn't care. All that mattered was that she was going to help them stop evil; no matter the consequences, it was worth it. "God will love you regardless of your decision, Joanna."

"Send me back, Castiel."

He nodded. "Close your eyes." She did as she was instructed, and felt the lightest of touches on her stomach. She took a deep breath, and his large hand pressed down forcefully on her stomach. The pain ripped through her with the speed and force of lightning. Jo was forced to bite down on her lip to stop from screaming in pain.

The pressure on her stomach intensified, and she could feel fire licking through every vein in her body. Her back arched at it's own accord, and a scream broke through her mouth. Her lungs tightened, her mouth gasped for air. The last thing she saw before the world turned black was Castiel's hand above her eyes.

…

Jo came to life screaming. Her eyes flew open, and she sat up clutching her chest. Sucking in sweet cool air, she discovered she was sitting in the middle of a field. Her hands fell to her stomach. Despite the dried blood on her shirt, there wasn't a tear or mark in her shirt.

"You have been completely healed."

Jo looked up startled, and saw Castiel standing several feet away from her looking towards the horizon. Jo realised the sun was setting. Slowly, she climbed to her feet, her legs stiff and tingling. When she was confident she could walk without falling over, she moved to join him. They stood side by side on a hill overlooking farmland.

In the distance, she could just make out red and blue flashes of lightning amongst a circle of trees. As if reading her thoughts Castiel explained, "The police have discovered your body in the house."

"What?" Jo asked glancing down at her own body.

"A duplicate was made to convince them of your death," he answered, a frown staining his chiselled features. "Sam Winchester has just identified you're body."

"What?" Jo repeated. "But I thought-"

Castiel turned to her. "You were given a second chance Joanna, but no one must know of your existence. You are to disappear and the world is to be convinced that you were murdered."

"But my mom-"

"I explained that it would be difficult," He turned back to the horizon. Jo noticed with some trepidation that Castiel held himself differently now. While his presence had brought her comfort and love earlier, it now portrayed indifference. He was almost… cold. "The world must not know of your presence," he pressed, interrupting her thoughts. "If the demons were to find out that we sent you back it would put you in immediate danger. You would become a target."

"Why… how…? I…"

"You must use your skills as a hunter - now more than ever. You know how to remain unseen," he reminded her. "You've had experience in dealing with stolen identities."

Jo blushed, looking down at her feet guilty. "But…" She tried to make sense of his instructions, tried to read between the lines. She was overwhelmed and full of questions he didn't seem likely to answer. "Why? How am I supposed to help-"

He ignored her question, and turned back to the horizon. "As soon as the sun sets you must leave this place quickly. Do you understand? No one is to know that you are alive."

"Castiel, what am I supposed to do?"

"Remain hidden," He turned back to her, his eyes emphasised the seriousness of his words. His gaze hardened, and Jo knew better than to argue with him. "I will send someone to you that will help you fulfil your destiny. Together you can stop the demons from ruling this world."

"Castiel, I don't understand...?"

"Have faith, Joanna." His expression changed swiftly, and he looked sympathetic. He gently pulled the necklace free from her shirt, and ran a finger over the cross. She felt the chain tingle in response. "I will return when it is time," he whispered.

She opened her mouth to respond, when he suddenly disappeared from her sight. Jo whirled around looking for any sign of him, but he was long gone. Sighing, she squinted at the tiny cars and farmhouse.

Twenty minutes later the sun set.

***

"Oh my God." Bobby felt his knees start to buckle as he confirmed what Sam had told him over the phone. "Not her. Please, not her," he moaned in disbelief.

Jo's cold body lay stretched out before him on a steel table, her eyes white and filmy, stared up at the ceiling. He ran a shaking hand over her eyes, and slid them shut.

Bobby tore his eyes away from her body painfully, and looked up at Sam. The younger Winchester stood, gazing at the gaping hole in her stomach. Bobby had never seen Sam so still. "What's in your hand?" Bobby asked pointing to his left arm.

Sam looked at Bobby confused, before realising that Bobby had asked him a question. He lifted his hand, and showed him the mother of pearl-handed knife inside of an evidence bag. The initials 'DW' glinted under the neon lights in the coroner's office. "They found it next to… the body."

Bobby took the offered bag, and he examined it. The blade was still covered in dried blood. Bobby bit down on his bottom lip. He knew without a blood test that it was Jo's blood. "Those evil son's of bitches got her with her own knife," Bobby cursed and covered his mouth with his shaking hand. He turned away from her body and tried to calm himself. "I can't do this again, Sam. I can't burry another one of you kids."

He closed his eyes as he heard Sam cover Jo's body back up with the sheet. He took the body release papers, and tucked it inside the bag with Jo's remaining possessions. "The cops said they still haven't found her truck," Sam spoke up.

Bobby growled. "The demon probably took off with it," he stated. "It'll turn up abandoned in a week or so."

"Does Ellen know yet?"

Bobby sighed, tears stinging his eyes. It had taken two hours, and a bottle of whiskey for him to drum up the nerve to call her. She had broken down, as he had anticipated, and Ernie had to take the phone from her when she went catatonic. Ernie promised to take care of her while Bobby organised for Jo's body to be brought home.

Louie, however, had taken to alerting the hunting community that Jo had been murdered, and anyone who knew anything about the demon responsible was to report to him. Bobby knew he meant well, but the last thing he needed to deal with was a bunch of hunters going off half-cocked with revenge in their eyes. No doubt some innocent would be caught in the crossfire. "Yeah," Bobby answered Sam eventually. "She knows."

Sam nodded, and handed the bag of possessions to Bobby. "Tell Ellen I'm sorry."

Bobby looked up at Sam startled. "You're not coming with me?"

"I… can't," Sam apologised softly. He avoided Bobby's gaze, and made to leave for the door.

"You can't be serious, Sam!" Bobby called after him, suddenly angry. "I need your help!"

"You're better off without me," Sam said and opened the door. "But don't worry, I'll find who did this."

"Sam, wait!" Bobby shouted after him.

Sam ignored him, and slipped into the corridor. Bobby stared at the now closed door incredulously. He couldn't believe that Sam had left. A part of him was terrified of leaving the depressed Winchester alone, but another part of him was furious that Sam didn't have the balls to help him burry her.

He turned back to where Jo lay, and let the salty tears escape his tired eyes. "It's okay sweetie, I'll take you home," he whispered, and quickly left the room before he broke down.

***

"Sam, will you please slow down!" Ruby cried out, grasping the dashboard as Sam swept violently round a sharp corner. The Impala growled furiously down the dirt road, rocks flying up and hitting the windscreen with fierce cracks. Ruby glared at Sam, who hadn't spoken since leaving the county morgue, and tried to hold on. "Sam!"

"We have to find who did this, Ruby," Sam snapped. His eyes narrowed and his top lip curled into a snarl. "I'm going to rip it limb from limb," he vowed.

"Sam, will you just stop for a moment?" Ruby grasped his forearm, and he flung it off. "Sam!" She shouted and tried again, this time placing both of her hands on his arm. "Please, just stop for one second. You can't kill the demon if we're wrapped around a pole."

Her words filtered through his angry haze, and he reduced his speed slightly. He glanced at her quickly, and she was struck by the guilt staining his eyes. "I have to find it, Ruby," he insisted. "I promised Bobby I would find Jo's killer."

"Ok." Ruby straightened in her seat, and kept a nervous eye on the surroundings streaking past them. "I get that this is important," she acknowledged. "But there are a lot of demons out and about Sam, and it's going to take some time to track down the right-"

"I'll just kill all of them until we find the right one."

"Sam!" Ruby cried out frustrated and threw her hands up in the air. "Pull over," she ordered. When Sam didn't comply, she gripped the steering wheel and pulled down. The Impala skidded, and Sam pushed her hands away, and quickly tried to steer the car back onto the road. The tree line approached them rapidly and Sam hit the brakes. The car fishtailed. Ruby held on to her seatbelt, and waited for the car to come to a fierce stop.

"Are you fucking crazy?!?!" Sam roared once he had the car under control. He pulled up the handbrake and turned the car off. His heart was racing and he was almost sick from the adrenaline. "What did you do that for?"

"I had to get you to stop," Ruby explained calmly and took off her seatbelt. She turned to him and placed a soothing hand to his shoulder. "Sam, I know you're upset-"

Sam huffed in response.

"But you need to stop and think for a moment." When it was clear that Sam wasn't about to start the car and speed off again, she let out a deep breath. "Let's just try to look at this calmly, Ok?"

"Fine."

Ruby rolled her eyes and withdrew her hand from his shoulder. "Jo is dead," she stated and ignored Sam's murderous glare. "There was sulphur everywhere and signs of struggle. You said yourself there was no calling card or markings of any kind, so we don't know which demon killed her."

"Right," Sam agreed.

"Ok. Let's think, you're a demon and you have a brand new set of wheels and you've just successfully killed a hunter. Where do you go next?" Ruby waited for her words to settle. Sam's eyes narrowed and she could practically see the wheels in his brain turning. He bit his lip in deep concentration, eventually his eyes widened in realisation.

"How far is it to the nearest bar?"

"I saw a strip club two hours from here," Ruby answered with a knowing smile. Sam let out a deep sigh and sat back in his car seat. "You ready to go now, Steve McQueen?" she asked with an amused smirk.

Sam nodded and turned the car back onto the road. Ruby noted that his speed matched the legal limits in the area and she leant back in her seat satisfied.

Half an hour later Sam spoke up, "Thanks, Ruby."

"Your welcome, Sammy."

"Don't-" he warned thickly, his eyes not leaving the road.

Ruby grimaced. "Sorry, I forgot," she apologised. Attempting to ease the tension, she switched on Sam's ipod and pushed play. Dance music filled the car and she let out a happy sigh.

Sam ignored her and continued to formulate a plan while driving. In the back of his mind he knew that even if he managed to find the demon and kill it, it wouldn't bring her back. Guilt dwelled in the back of his throat, and he knew without a doubt he had already betrayed his brother's wishes. Sam had done what Dean had tried so hard to avoid; he had Jo's blood on his hands.

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Feedback is always appreciated! Would love to hear your thoughts!


	8. Chapter 8

**Rating:** M

**Spoilers:** 4X01 Lazarus Rising - like a whole scene out of that episode.

**A/N:** In this chapter it is following the same time line as the show. Dean was 'raised' on Sept 18.

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed and shared their thoughts with me. I adore you all. Please continue, I love reading your theories, thoughts and concerns!

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'**A Better Man'**

"Dean?" Bobby finally acknowledged. The older hunter looked like he was going to be sick, and he studied Dean for any sign of a flaw that proved he wasn't really who he said he was. Dean couldn't blame Bobby for being suspicious. He had after all essentially returned from the dead. If the situation were reversed he would have tried to attack Bobby too.

But the truth was; Dean was back from hell.

Dean could barely believe it himself and was still having trouble believing that he wasn't having some kind of a sick dream. The first time he had opened his eyes and realized he was in a pine box, he had thought it was another torture technique.

He had blinked and fumbled around until his hands closed over something cold and hard. A lighter. Fear pounding through his veins, he flicked the lighter and expected to find himself in hell. When it was clear that he was alone, he started calling for help.

The air started to become thin and he had clawed and punched his way to the surface. The sunlight had stung his eyes and the cool, sweet air made him dizzy, but he could barely believe his raw eyes… He was free. He was alive and free from hell.

Dean collapsed to his feet shortly after in shock. It took twenty minutes of touching his body and everything around him, before he could consider reality. If he was dreaming, then he was determined to never wake up. He'd rather die in whatever warped reality he had created for himself, then open his eyes and live another second in hell. He _refused_ to go back.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you," he finally answered, desperately trying to convince himself and Bobby that he was real. His eyes pleaded for understanding from the skittish man. He walked towards him cautiously, trying to show that he wasn't going to attack him and awkwardly pulled Bobby into a hug.

Bobby held onto him tightly, his fingers digging into his flesh, still looking for some kind of sign that he wasn't real. "It's- it's good to see you boy," Bobby stuttered in disbelief.

Dean stepped back feeling overwhelmed. "Yeah, you too."

"But how did you bust out?"

Dean shook his head. "I don't know, I just uh- " He leaned over and put the knife down, hoping that Bobby had finally relaxed enough not to take another stab at him. "Just woke up in a pine box-" He was cut off by a cup of holy water splashing across his face. He remained still, allowing Bobby to see that the water had no effect. He turned his head slightly to spit out the remaining water and tried to look calm. "I'm not a demon either, you know."

Bobby looked apologetic enough and waved the half empty bottle in his hand. "Sorry, can't be too careful."

Dean rolled his eyes and grabbed a towel while they walked into Bobby's den. He wiped the remaining liquid from his face, before slinging the towel over his shoulder. The sight of Bobby's messy den was a sight for sore eyes. Dean raked his eyes over every object, trying to familiarize himself with everything again.

"That don't make a lick of sense," Bobby spoke up trying to make sense of why Dean was now standing in his den. Dean sincerely hoped Bobby could figure out why he was free, but a part of him was secretly terrified of discovering the truth. Somehow he had slipped free, and Dean wanted to make his freedom permanent before someone realized the mix-up and sent him back.

"Yeah, you're preaching to the choir," he murmured, trying not to let his emotions rule his head. He pushed his fears deep down inside of him and slammed a lid over it. He didn't have time for doubts; he had to remain focused.

Bobby paused behind his desk and stared at him. "Dean, your chest was ribbons, your insides were slop, and you've been buried four months, even if you could slip out of hell and back into your meat suit- "

"I know, I should look like a Thriller video reject," Dean agreed and tried not to dwell on the images that filled his mind. He took a deep breath and schooled his thoughts again.

"What do you remember?" Bobby asked curiously.

Dean avoided his eyes. "Not much, I remember I was a Hellhound's chew toy, and then lights out, then I come to six feet under, that's it," He lied. He wasn't ready yet to focus on where he had been (or still was). All that mattered was what he had to do next - he had to find his brother.

Bobby sat down behind his desk looking confused. Dean tried to change the subject. "Sam's number's not working, he's uh...he's not-?"

Bobby didn't look up at him. "Oh, he's alive, as far as I know."

Dean nodded, relief washing through him; his brother was alive and safe. "Good..." He paused, reanalyzing Bobby's gruff words. "Wait, what do you mean as far as you know? "

Bobby glanced at something over his shoulder distracted and Dean's jaw hardened with suspicion. He suddenly knew something was amiss with the hunter. "I haven't talked to him in weeks," Bobby eventually admitted softly.

"You're kidding, you just let him go off by himself?" Dean exploded. He was shocked by Bobby's revelation. He thought he had made his wishes clear before he died. Bobby had promised to keep an eye on Sam and stop him if he tried to make any deals with any demons.

"He was dead set on it."

"Bobby, you should have been looking after him-" he started to argue, when Bobby suddenly stood up and started towards him. Dean was overwhelmed by the deep despair in his eyes, and thought for a split second that the man was going to hit him.

"I tried!" Bobby exclaimed. Anger briefly flashed across his face, before a deep sadness filled his eyes. "These last months haven't been exactly easy you know. For him or me… first you and then Jo-" He cut himself off, and turned away to sit back at his desk.

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Jo? As in Harvelle?" Memories of a toothy grin and flowing blonde locks bombarded his mind. His mouth felt dry when he opened it, and he had to clear his throat before he could speak. "What happened to her?"

Bobby's eyes dropped to the desk, and he appeared to almost saginto his chair. Dean wondered if he had heard his question, when Bobby abruptly removed his truckers cap and tossed it down on the desk. He ran an exhausted hand through his thinning hair. "She was tracking some vampires," he started to explain carefully. "I asked her to take Sam with her, you know, keep him out of trouble?"

"And did she?" Dean interrupted.

The muscles in Bobby's jaw flickered and Dean bit his lip and sat down on the couch awaiting Bobby's answer. "A couple of days later I called Sam because Jo wasn't answering her phone." Bobby hesitated, picking at a loose splinter in the desk. "He said she had shown up briefly...but then…"

The older man's sudden silence caused Dean to feel uneasy. "Bobby, what happened? What was she thinking going off to hunt vampires by herself?"

Bobby glared at him before responding. "She wasn't _supposed_ to go alone. She promised me she would go with Sam. I wouldn't have let her go otherwise…" Bobby scrubbed at his face looking frustrated. When he spoke again, Dean was stunned by the acidity in his voice. "Jo showed up on Sam's door step… but I guess Ruby was her usual charming self, and Jo got into a fight with her."

"Wait – Ruby? I thought she was downstairs?"

Bobby shrugged. "Well she found her way back."

Dean scratched absently at the back of his head. "So what, Ruby and Jo got into a cat fight or something?" he quipped unable to hold back a grin.

Bobby narrowed his eyes at him disapprovingly. "More like Jo introduced Ruby to her new bullet collection."

"Jo shot Ruby?" Dean asked impressed, his grin widening. "Damn, I wish I had been there. I miss all the good action."

Bobby clucked his tongue at Dean and crossed his arms over his chest. "Point is, she left on her own and when I found out, I sent Sam after her." Bobby went quiet again and uncrossed his arms. He picked up his cap and started fiddling with the torn edges. "Sam found her…" Bobby's voice wavered slightly, but he cleared his throat and resumed talking. "It was too late. The vampires were nowhere to be found, but there was evidence of a demon attack."

The grin dropped off Dean's face completely and he swore under his breath. "Who did it?"

"No one we've dealt with before," Bobby assured him. "It was bad, Dean. Real bad. There was nothing anyone could have done. It had made sure of it." Dean noted that Bobby sounded more like he was trying to convince himself of that fact. "Sam ran off and found the demon responsible. He told me later that the demon had been bragging about it and had said he had received a tip off that Jo was on her way."

Dean opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't find the words. He dropped his head into his hands and tried to ignore the regret swelling in his stomach. "God Dammit!" He looked up at Bobby. "How long ago was this?"

"A month ago."

"Jesus… poor Ellen," Dean mumbled and suddenly felt very tired. It had been a very long day and Dean suspected it was only the beginning. His memories teased him with glimpses of her smiles and her snappy comebacks, until he was forced to shove them at the back of his mind. He couldn't deal with this right now. He had to focus. He had to find Sam. "Hey Bobby?" He spoke up after a few minutes silence. "Why didn't you burn me? Why'd you just bury me?"

Bobby seemed grateful for the change in topic and leant back in his chair. "I wanted you salted and burned, the usual drill, but Sam wouldn't have it."

"Why?" Dean asked confused.

"He said you'd need a body when he got you back home somehow, that's about all he said."

"What do you mean?"

Bobby took a deep breath before responding. Dean suddenly realized that Bobby hadn't been exaggerating when he had said the last couple of months had been hard. "He was quiet...real quiet. After he told me about Jo, he just took off, wouldn't return my calls. I tried to find him, but he don't want to be found."

"Aw dammit Sammy!" Dean cried jumping to his feet. He couldn't believe his brother sometimes. His biggest fear before going to hell had been that his brother would do something stupid. Dean had known that his death would hit his brother hard, but he had been relying on their friends to keep him out of trouble.

"What?"

"Oh, he got me home okay, but whatever he did it is bad mojo." Dean snapped. He paced the room angrily and tried to process the day's information all at once. He knew when he'd crawled out of that damn grave something hadn't been right. Dean had stupidly hoped that hell had made a mix up, that he had somehow been overlooked. He hadn't wanted to believe his brother was capable of freeing him from hell, but now, when faced with the facts he was furious. Sam had promised he wouldn't do anything and the fact that he had, made Dean livid.

"What makes you so sure?" Bobby asked looking concerned.

"You should have seen the grave site, it was like a nuke went off. Then there was this- this force, this presence, uh- I don't know but, it- it- blew past me at a fill up joint, and then this- "

Dean took off his long sleeved shirt, and pulled up the arm of his shirt underneath. He revealed the tender scorched handprint on his left shoulder. Bobby stumbled to his feet, grabbing Dean's arm in shock. He gazed at the mark with a mixture of fear and wonder.

"What in the hell?"

"Yeah, it's like a demon just yanked me out, or rode me out- " Dean murmured and pulled his shirtsleeve back down.

"But why?"

"To hold up their end of the bargain."

"You think Sam made a deal?" Bobby didn't looked shocked, just stunned by the news. His brow furrowed in concentration.

"It's what I would have done," Dean admitted.

***

Dean collapsed on the spare bed upstairs in Bobby's house. Burrowing his face into the pillows, he couldn't decide if he wanted to punch something or sleep. It had been a very long, confusing couple of weeks.

Not only had he been raised from the dead (and hell itself), he had been reunited with his oddly eager brother, witnessed a woman have her eyes burnt out of her skull, found out that Angels were real, and that they had work for him and finally; he had discovered his brother was sneaking behind his back to use his demon powers and was working with Ruby.

Dean wondered, for not the first time, what life could have been like if he had died the first time around. He was tired. Tired of fighting, tired of _dying_ and tired of running. Dean released a deep groan and flipped onto his back. Why was his life so complicated? Demons were one thing - but Angels? Were they serious? And now he had to deal with 'dark side' Sam?

Dean was positive he had bumped his head on his way out of the grave. This could not be his life now. Still trying to sort through the crap in his head, he kicked off his boots and curled up on his side. He was just starting to drift off into a light sleep, when someone knocked on the bedroom door.

"Yeah?" Dean grunted and looked up. The door opened and his brother slipped into the room.

"Are you sleeping?"

Dean rolled his eyes at his brother's question. "Yes, can't you tell?"

Sam flushed red and shut the door quietly behind him. Dean sat up and moved back to rest his back against the headboard. Sam dropped down heavily on the end of the bed. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"What's wrong?"

Sam shrugged. "Nothing… it's just… it's been a long couple of months."

"You're telling me," Dean agreed. "I didn't even get a decent tan while I was down under." Sam shook his head at Dean's attempt at a joke and began pulling at a loose thread of the bedspread. Dean raised his eyebrow, curious by his younger brothers hesitation. "Ok, chuckles. Lay it on me."

Sam looked up surprised. "What?"

"Whatever is on your mind; Spill. You've got that constipated look on your face which means you want to tell me something, but you don't want me to get mad."

A smile flickered over Sam's features and he pulled too hard on the thread. He looked guilty as it sat in his hand and quickly brushed the evidence onto the floor. "It's nothing."

"Yeah, sure." Dean smirked. "Whatever you need to tell yourself, Sammy."

Sam looked up at the use of his nickname and smiled sadly. "It's been a shit couple of months," he started and lifted his feet and sat cross-legged on the bed. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

"Yeah, well you'll have to try harder than that to get rid of me." Dean grinned and patted his brothers' knee. "Better luck next time, eh?"

Sam frowned. "There's not going to be a _next_ time," he warned.

"What are you going to do little brother, string me up?" He chuckled and leaned over to the bedside table and reached for his whiskey bottle. Taking a small sip, he offered the bottle to his brother. Sam declined with a shake of his head.

"Dean, you can't do that to me again. I cant… I didn't…"

Dean's smile disappeared and he placed the whiskey back on the table. "Sam-"

"No!" Sam cried, jumping up from the bed. He started to pace back and forth looking caged. "You don't… it wasn't fair. I wasn't ready. I didn't know what to do. If Ruby hadn't been there-"

"Ruby?" Dean grunted. "Did I just hear you correctly?" He frowned at his brother. "You can't honestly believe that Ruby helped you out because she was being a good Samaritan? She is a _demon,_ Sam. She might not have told you her real agenda but I can guarantee you that there is one. I can't believe you still trust her."

"What other choice did I have? You were dead, Dean. I was alone. I was a mess."

"What about Bobby, huh? Did you forget about him? We have friends you know, Sam? You could have gone to Ellen or Jo!"

At the mention of the late hunters name, Sam turned away from Dean and stared out the window. Dean closed his eyes, kicking himself mentally for bringing up her name. The memories he had pushed to the back of his mind began to stir. He opened his mouth to make amends, but Sam beat him to it. "Yeah, because that went so well didn't it?" Sam muttered darkly.

"Bobby told me what happened."

Sam whirled around and Dean was startled by the dangerous look in Sam's eyes. "Did he? Really? He tell you everything did he?"

"He told me she got into a fight with Ruby, which you are going to have to tell me in detail one day-" Dean started with a smirk.

"I told her to get lost!"

"Well… Sammy, she's an adult. I'm sure she has been told worse," Dean tried to assure him, but Sam just dropped down into an armchair by the window. "You had a fight Sam, I'm sure she understood that you didn't mean it-"

"She saw me using my powers."

Dean's jaw tightened and he frowned at his brother. "You mean the ones I _forbade_ you to use? The ones you promised not to use anymore?"

"I didn't want to," Sam protested. "It was the last thing I wanted. But after a few weeks it got harder, and the truth was setting in. I was desperate, Dean. I was determined to get you back - to save you!"

"Dammit, Sam!" Dean exploded and stood up. "You can't use me as an excuse."

"I'm not," Sam muttered defensively.

"Then why are we still fighting about this?" Dean snapped, running an exasperated hand through his hair. "I can't hold your hand your whole life Sam, you have to take some responsibility. You know you aren't supposed to use your powers - but you do! You knew I'd be furious about it, so you snuck out during the night to do it and for what Sam? I'm back now and you're _still_ doing it."

"I'm helping people!"

"There are other ways!" Dean swore. "Dammit, Sam. We keep going over this. You have to make a choice. Right now. You have to stop right now… regardless of how many people you can supposedly save. You have to stop-"

"Or?" Sam challenged standing up and looking down at his brother.

"_Or_ that's it. I can't do this, Sam."

"Do what?"

"I can't stand beside you and cheer you on while you slowly morph into one of _them_." Dean watched the color drain from Sam's face. Sam blinked and Dean could see the hurt and despair in his brother's eyes. He had to stay strong though, no matter how much he wanted to take back his harsh words, he couldn't. Sam had to stop using his powers.

"I'm not a demon," Sam said quietly.

"Well you will be if you keep doing this," Dean assured him. "Castiel made it clear that they wont be able stop you if you keep going. Please Sam, I'm serious. This is bad. The choices you are making… its not worth it."

"You're making it out to sound like I'm going around killing people. I'm _saving_ people, Dean."

Dean wasn't convinced. Letting out a sigh he leant forward and buried his face in his hands. "No, you're not," he murmured from between his fingers. He dropped his hands and looked up. "Sam, how many people died before you mastered your tricks?"

"They aren't tricks, Dean!" Sam bellowed, throwing his hands up in the air. "I'm expelling demons from the host."

"And how many _hosts_ died until you got it right?" Dean challenged. "How many people were ripped to shreds until you figured it out?" When Sam didn't answer him, he sat up straighter. "That's what I thought. Don't you think the Angels would be high-fiving you right now if you were really doing good work?" Dean sighed and tried to get through to his brother. "But they're not Sam, they are begging you to stop. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

Sam shook his head, "They just don't understand."

"Sorry - I forgot who I am talking to," Dean snapped venomously. "Not even God knows as much as the great Sam Winchester! Let us all bow beneath your awesomeness."

"Shut up, Dean!"

"No! You shut up and listen to _me_, Sam. What you're doing is wrong – it's as simple as that. Stop now or you're on your own."

His younger brothers' eyes widened and Dean was relieved when he spotted a flicker of fear in Sam's face. "You're not serious, Dean?"

"Try me."

Sam crossed his arms petulantly and nodded to himself. After a few moments he uncrossed his arms. "Fine," he barked and made for the door.

"Sam!" Dean warned, before he could open the door.

"Fine, _Dad,_" Sam spat back angrily.

"Sam… so help me, if I really was dad I would have shot you already and tied you to the bed." He glared at his brother. "Don't think I'm not considering it."

Sam glowered at him. "I'm _so_ glad you're back from hell," Sam snarled and threw open the door and stormed out of the room.

"I've missed you too, bitch!" Dean shouted after him.

***

"Sam?"

"Not right now, Ruby." Sam slid off the bonnet of an old broken car and headed back towards Bobby's house.

"Sam, wait!" Ruby pleaded and grabbed his arm.

Sam paused, but refused to look up at her. "Why?" he asked impatiently.

"Are you ok?"

"Just peachy," he muttered.

"Sam-"

"What do you want, Ruby?" Sam snapped finally looking up. Ruby stared at him open mouthed, as she registered the pain and anger in his eyes. Ignoring her gaze, he yanked his arm out of her grasp and started stalking back to the house.

"Wait, Sam. Please, I have news!" Ruby called out after him.

"I don't care!" Sam shouted over his shoulder. He came to a sudden halt when she materialized in front of him.

"Since when?" she challenged with a raised eyebrow.

"Since right now."

Ruby frowned and crossed her hands. "Did you and Dean have a fight?"

"No," Sam lied. He stared at a pile of scrap metal over her shoulder.

"He didn't mean it," she cooed and leant into him. He tried to take a step back, but she twisted her arms around his neck. "He's just worried about you Sam."

"How do you even know what we fought about?"

"It's not hard to guess," Ruby pointed out. She leant in to kiss him, but he pushed her away. She frowned, but didn't try again. Instead she let out a sigh. "Listen I thought you should know, Dean's Angel buddies are up to something."

Sam frowned. "What do you mean?"

Ruby smiled, her eyes alight with amusement. "Apparently Dean wasn't the only one they raised from the dead." Sam narrowed his eyes suspiciously and Ruby nodded. "That's right, Dean's not so special anymore."

"Who else did they bring back?" Sam questioned.

Ruby shrugged. "No one knows. Everyone in hell is accounted for and there is a lot of rumours around that the Angels are up to something big."

"Do you have any theories?"

Ruby shook her head and leant back against an abandoned car. "It's something big because Lilith is nervous. She has ordered a special strike force to track down the newly returned and find out what the Angels are up too."

"So?"

Ruby rolled her eyes. "So?" she repeated. "Lilith doesn't _get_ nervous. And this strike team isn't your usual run of the mill demons. They are specialist at tracking." Ruby stood up and motioned to the house. "I'm sorry that you are fighting with Dean, but maybe he just needs some time. I came here to give you a heads up. If Lilith is nervous you can bet that she's keeping a close eye on the competition and that includes your brother."

"Ruby, about what we're doing-"

"I get it," she said, raising her arms in defence. "I'll lay low, stay off the Dean radar." Sam opened his mouth to respond but she silenced him with a smile. "Relax, I'm just a call away. Just take care of yourself ok?"

"Thanks, Ruby."

"Sam?" Ruby vanished just as Bobby rounded the corner with a shotgun. His eyes narrowed suspiciously at Sam. "What are you doing out here?"

Sam shrugged. "Just letting off some steam."

"Sure you are," Bobby responded looking unconvinced. Sam tried smiling reassuringly at him, but Bobby just shook his head. "Get inside before your brother has kittens."

Sam nodded and followed Bobby back to the house. Bobby went inside first, grumbling under his breath about domestic disturbances while Sam paused at the steps. He glanced behind him at the empty junkyard. Sighing, he turned and headed inside.

* * *

How was that? I know a few of you were eagerly waiting the return of Dean - what did you think?


	9. Chapter 9

**Rating:** M (for violence)

**A/N:** I'm updating early this week as I will be out of town on Sunday. But chapter 10 will be published on Monday night. Thank you again to everyone that has reviewed, commented and given support. I really appreciate it. I know I've said it a million times, and i'll say it a million times -- because it's true.

* * *

'**Servatis a Maleficum****'**

Dean couldn't sleep.

After three hours of tossing and turning, he had given up and resorted to staring at the ceiling. Bobby's deep snores reverberated from down the hall, while the muffled voices of some TV show, floated up from downstairs. Dean thought he knew the reason why sleep wasn't forth coming.

The Impala keys hidden, and Bobby's truck disabled, Dean was still anxiously waiting for Sam to take off. He hated fighting with his brother, but Dean knew this time it was important. This time the stakes were higher, and Dean was not willing to gamble his brother's life - even if Sam was. Dean suppressed the strong yearning to go downstairs, and sat up in bed frustrated and bored.

Flicking the bedside light on, he slid open the small drawer. Nestled inside was a small, black, leather bound bible, and a couple of used light bulbs. He pulled the bible out hesitantly. Gently, he ran his fingers over the gold embossed lettering on the front cover.

Dean put the bible down with a groan. He couldn't do it. His mind refused to believe that after all these years Angels had been watching him. He frowned. _'Where were the Angels when mom was killed? Where were they when dad had to raise two boys on the road, while searching for the demon that had destroyed our family? Where were they when I begged for a way to get out of my deal?'_

Picking up the book, he went to toss it back in the drawer, when a piece of scrap paper fluttered free. Curious, he abandoned the bible and scooped the paper up from the floor. In rushed curled handwriting the note read:

_**'**__**Vampire vulnerabilities:**___

_**- dead man's blood (in syringes vs crossbow bolt?) **_

_**– beheading (use machete?)**_

_** – fire **_

_**– sun (mere sunburn – no real effect) **_

_**– they mate for life (use as bait?)'**_

Dean realized with a sharp intake of breath whom the note belonged to. "Jo," he whispered her name softly. His hands clutched the piece of paper tighter, and he hurried to read the rest of the note.

_**'Farmhouse, abandoned for 12yrs (previous owner bankrupt), female & male (possible older second male???), 2 x missing teenagers spotted in area, 5 x mutilated cattle, nearby property 2.5 miles, 3 x break-ins (liquor store, clothes store & hardware store)'**_

He flipped the note over, hungrily scanning the paper for more of her thoughts, and realized some of it was scratched out. He lifted the note up into the light, and tried to make out the handwriting. "Romans 12:21?" He read out loud, confused.

Pulling the bible back out of the draw, he flicked through it until he found the correct passage.

"Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good."

He reread the passage several times before closing the bible, and tossing it back into the draw. Dean didn't bother switching off the light - instead he lay back in bed, and continued to stare at the note.

Now in the privacy of his own room, he allowed the memories to flood to the surface of his mind. His stomach clenched while recalling the look on her face when he ditched her in that bar in Duluth.

The REO Speedwagon song he associated most with Jo, played softly in his head while he sorted through the few moments he'd spent with her. The first thing she'd ever said to him (No, I'm just real happy to see you. Don't move.), the way she coyly rocked her hips back and forth as she cleaned the bar (he wasn't an idiot, he'd know coy flirting a mile away), the way she had all but told Sam to take a hike so she could talk to him alone (he'd never seen Sam move so fast), the playful smile she wore while calling him 'Dean-o', the look of understanding as he shared a memory about his dad, her scream when the ghost snatched her (the sound still echoed in his ears and made his chest tighten with guilt ever time he thought about it), the relief on her face when he rescued her from that God awful box, the tears of betrayal she'd shed as she revealed his fathers' involvement in her fathers' death…

Dean placed her note gently on the bedside table. '_I'm sorry you had to go that way, Jo. I hope that wherever you are, you're now at peace,'_ he thought to himself sadly and closed his eyes against the regrets.

***

Dean woke, as he did most mornings now, with a jolt. Sitting up, he fumbled around blindly for the whiskey bottle he had started the night before. He found it under the bed, and quickly downed a mouthful in an attempt to wash away the nightmare (or more likely; memories). Lowering the bottle, he tried to catch his breath, whilst his eyes adjusted to his surroundings.

With a sigh of relief, he realized he was in Bobby's spare bedroom. Throwing the twisted blankets aside, he suddenly became conscious of the fact he wasn't alone. Bobby sat slumped in the armchair in the corner of the room, fast asleep. Dean recognized the bible he had read the night before, sitting on Bobby's lap, with Jo's note stuck inside. Climbing out of bed, he crossed the room, and nudged the older hunter awake.

"Huh?" Bobby grunted, and snatched up the rifle beside him.

Dean raised his hands in defense, "Expecting company Bobby?" Dean joked half-heartedly.

Bobby released a tired yawn in response, and tilted his head until his neck cracked. He stood up and stretched, tossing the bible back onto the chair. "You were murmuring in your sleep last night," Bobby offered, explaining his presence in the room.

Dean nodded and started gathering his clothes together. "Mind if I use your shower before Sammy wakes up and hogs all the hot water?"

"He's already gone."

"What?" Dean whirled around, the color draining from his face. "He left?"

"Relax kid," Bobby replied. "I sent him to grab some food supplies. You're hungry aren't you?"

Dean exhaled slowly. Upon seeing Bobby's amused expression, he shrugged embarrassed at his over reaction. "Have I ever said no to a Bobby fry up?"

Bobby chuckled heading for the door. "No, I guess not."

"Well then!" Dean ducked past him. "I'll have two of everything."

"Still as bossy as ever," Bobby grunted trudging downstairs.

Dean grinned boyishly, and shut the bathroom door. Undressing quickly, he tossed his clothes on the floor, and started the shower. Waiting for the water to adjust, he scratched absent-mindedly at the handprint on his shoulder.

"You really shouldn't pick at it," Castiel spoke up.

Dean whirled around startled to find Castiel standing by the window. "Dude!" he exclaimed, and grabbed a towel, and wrapped it around his waist. He scowled at the impassive Angel. "Perverted much?"

"Your sexual organs do not appeal to me."

Dean's eyes widened, and he hurried to turn the shower off. "Ah, good to know… I think." He crossed his arms feeling extremely uncomfortable. "What are you doing here? This couldn't have waited, say, ten minutes?"

"There isn't much time before your brother returns."

"Sam?" Dean asked suspiciously. "Why does that matter?"

"What I have to tell you does not concern him," Castiel answered calmly. He ignored Dean, and peered out the window, scanning the surrounding tree line warily. He turned back to Dean. "We have work for you."

"Yeah?" Dean retorted. "So you keep telling me. So what's this big 'job'?"

"You are required to protect an innocent," Castiel responded bluntly.

Dean stared defiantly at the intrusive Angel. "Right, well… I'm a little busy right now-"

"Do not misunderstand my intentions, Dean." Castiel interrupted with a superior gaze. Dean noticed Castiel was clenching his fists. "It was not a request."

"Excuse me?" Dean exploded. He struggled to maintain a hold of the towel around his waist, while he gestured furiously. "You expect me and Sam to drop everything and run off and play babysitter to some-"

"Your brother's services are not required."

Dean glowered at the aloof Angel standing before him. "I don't go anywhere without Sam," he growled.

"That is not what you said to him last night."

"Listen pal-"

The bathroom mirror suddenly exploded, and fell into a messy pile by Dean's feet. Dean's eyes widened, and he looked up apprehensively at Castiel. The window flew open, and a gust of icy cold wind shoved Dean backwards against the door. "Do not test my patience, child," Castiel barked, his eyes alight with fury. "You are not the sole occupant of this universe. If you do not wish to comply I will send you back to the pit, and you can contemplate your sins for eternity."

"Dean?" Bobby's feet pounded up the stairs, and he banged on the door. "Dean!"

"Bobby, it's ok." Dean tried to assure him through the door.

"You'll find the innocent in Arizona. Go alone," Castiel ordered through clenched teeth. "Once I am sure you are not being followed, I will give you her exact location."

"Dean! What the hell is going on in there?" Bobby demanded.

"Do not assume your actions are without consequence," Castiel warned. "The fate of this innocent is in your hands. If anything should happen-"

"I get it, I get it. I'm a hell hound chew toy."

"DEAN!"

"Bobby, I'm ok!" Dean hollered through the door, and turned back towards Castiel, only to discover he had disappeared. With a roll of his eyes, he opened the door to reveal a red faced Bobby clutching his shotgun. "He's gone, Bobby. Relax."

"Who's gone?"

"Castiel," Dean groaned. "Wants me to… no… he _ordered_ me to go and protect some innocent chick in Arizona."

Bobby raised his eyebrows skeptically. "Right now?"

"Yup or I get sent to the time out mat."

"They don't muck around do they?" Bobby mused with a shake of his head.

Dean shrugged, "Who cares." He pointed to the broken mirror on the floor. "I hope you've got Angel insurance." Bobby rolled his eyes and muttered that he would go and fetch a broom. "I did not sign up to be an Angel's bitch," Dean muttered sourly. A distant boom of thunder resonated outside and Dean grimaced. "Okay, okay. Sorry."

***

"What did they mean by 'my services aren't required'?" Sam asked looking hurt.

"How should I know?" Dean replied between a mouthful of eggs and juice. He offered his plate up to Bobby as the older hunter approached the table with a stack of fresh pancakes. He ignored Bobby's groan of disgust while he covered the remaining contents on his plate with a cup of syrup.

"Did he mention why this person needed to be protected or how?" Sam waved away Bobby's pancakes, and settled for drinking his coffee.

"Nope." Dean shoved another mouthful of food into his mouth.

"This Castiel isn't big on sharing information," Bobby explained, and took a seat beside Dean. "But he was insistent that Dean do it alone."

"Well who ever she is, I hope she has some answers because I don't particularly enjoy being an Angel lapdog."

"Dean," Sam cautioned.

"What?"

"Shouldn't you be a bit more respectful?"

"What the hell for?" Dean asked scooping up the last of his eggs. "He's a dick."

"Dean, he saved you from hell," Sam reminded him with a despairing glance. "You'd still be there if it wasn't for him."

"Or so he says," Dean challenged. Bobby and Sam shared an aggravated look, and he ignored them. "Look, I don't care either way. I'll go, see what the big deal is and then once I'm finished we can get back to our lives."

"Do you seriously believe you can knock over this 'work' in a weekend, kid?" Bobby asked looking amused. "Did you consider for a second that if they went to all that trouble of pulling your ungrateful ass out of hell, that maybe they had something big for you to do? Something more than running a few errands for them?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "I'm grateful," he countered. "I just don't appreciate being jerked around is all." He finished his juice, and picked up his dishes, and dumped them in the sink. "Thanks for breakfast Bobby, I'll call you when I get there."

"Yeah, sure you will," Bobby grunted.

"What am I supposed to do?" Sam asked anxiously.

"Stay here until I come back," Dean replied with a smirk. "Maybe Bobby can teach you how to respect a car before I let you touch my baby again."

Sam glared at him, and crossed his arms. "Dean-"

"Relax, Sammy. I'll be back soon," Dean assured him. He raised an eyebrow at Sam's disgruntled look. "Unless you have somewhere more pressing to be?" he challenged.

Sam glared at him, and shook his head. "No, Dean. I'll stay and _behave_," Sam responded pointedly.

"Good." Dean grinned satisfied and headed upstairs to grab his bag.

***

Dean arrived in Colorado Springs in record time. After digging out his collection of classic rock cassettes, he purchased the biggest bag of M&M's the gas station sold, and enjoyed the long drive ahead of him. By the time night had fallen, he had regretfully pulled the car into a motel to grab some sleep.

Lying in the stiff motel sheets, it was hard for Dean to contemplate that a couple of weeks ago he had been buried deep in hell screaming for mercy. Not wanting to dwell on where he had been anymore, he switched on the TV to distract his brain.

Two hours later, his eyes finally started to droop, and he allowed sleep to claim him. It didn't take long for a nightmare to begin. However, unlike the other nightmares he had suffered, this one was different.

Peering nervously at the all too familiar bloody, and charred surroundings, he suddenly knew why the nightmare was different - he was reliving a memory.

Dean felt his attention being pulled to a dark room on his left, and he entered reluctantly, already aware of what he would find inside.

"You disappoint me, Dean. Where are all your cool comebacks now?"

Dean watched helplessly as the Dean in his memory, squinted through bloody, swollen eyes at the demon in front on him. He coughed, and thick rivers of blood rained down on the ground beneath his chained body.

"Oh, that might be because I ripped your tongue out earlier," the demon taunted with a laugh. She reached into a roaring bonfire beside him, and retrieved a branding iron. "Guess I'll have to remember to leave the tongue last next time."

Dean closed his eyes when he heard himself howl in agony as the demon drove a hot branding iron into his exposed stomach. The demon laughed manically while his screams rung out in the humid air. She pulled the iron free, only to drive it seconds later in to his shoulder.

"Meg!"

The demon glanced over her shoulder annoyed. "What?" she growled at the intruder.

"Alistair wants to see you." An older man, with a white beard entered the chamber. He glanced at Dean, who had sagged in his chains, blood leaking in thick clumps from the side of his face.

Meg screwed up her nose in distaste. "Cannan? What are you doing back so soon? Didn't you just go top side?"

The male demon groaned in response. "Don't fucking start."

Meg crossed her arms and grinned. "So much for your big holiday plans. What happened?"

"A pissed off Winchester, and his demon sidekick is what happened." He snarled tugging at the end of his beard.

"Well you should know better than to go after little Sammy Winchester. Didn't you hear what happened with Lilith?" Meg teased looking delighted when Dean moaned in his restraints at the mention of his brother's name.

"I didn't touch him!" the demon retorted fiercely. "He trapped me while I was shopping for a new meat suit."

"And I care because?" Meg responded. She picked up a blunt knife from a silver tray sitting beside the bonfire. She examined it in the light, and turned back to Dean, deliberately ignoring the demon behind her.

"It's your fault," Cannan snapped, grasping hold of her arm, and tugging her towards him.

Meg stared back at him defiantly. "How so? You're the dumbass that got sent back."

"You were the one that told me about the Harvelle kid!" the demon reminded her.

"All I did was pass on information," Meg sneered, yanking her arm free. "I told you what I heard from a source upstairs."

"Some source! What they didn't tell you was that Sam Winchester was keeping tabs on the girl and the minute I killed her, he tracked me down and sent me packing."

"So?"

"So!" he roared, he shoved her heavily and Dean cried out when she landed against him. The demon advanced on her. "You said that Sam wouldn't give a shit if the Harvelle girl died and that you made sure the two weren't close." He pointed a finger at Dean. "You played me Meg so that you could get extra play time with Dean."

"It's not my fault you can't clean up after yourself," Meg shouted, and propelled the demon backwards. "You should have learnt by now not to make your killings obvious."

"I didn't!" he insisted. "I left no sign that it was me that killed her. But magically Ruby turns up with Sam at the right place, at the right time. Don't you think that is a little convenient?"

"Are you accusing me of something?" Meg challenged through gritted teeth.

"You set me up!" The demon accused loudly. "You swore the only person who would have avenged the girl's death was her mother or Dean, and since he is strung up, I had nothing to worry about."

"Yes… And? What's your point?"

"You screwed me, Meg!" the demon hollered.

Meg rolled her eyes. She picked up the blunt knife she had dropped earlier, and pointed to the exit. "I'm bored now. Go away."

The demon took a threatening step towards her, and growled. "Just because your old man once had power around here, doesn't mean that you're royalty. When the others hear about this, they'll make sure you're stuck with clean up duty until you earn your place again."

"Good luck," Meg laughed confidently. "I think you'll find you're the one who has no power around here."

"We'll see if Alistair feels the same way."

"Do your worst, Cannan." Meg jeered.

The demon glared and turned around and stormed away. Meg turned back to Dean and smirked. "Sorry precious… didn't mean to ignore you." She showed him the knife, and ran her fingers over the blade lightly. "Lets make up for lost time shall we?"

Dean sat up in bed with a distressed cry. Legs shaking, he stumbled towards his bag. Tearing the zipper open, he found his bottle of whiskey, and yanked the lid off. By the time the second gulp of whiskey hit his stomach, he could see the motel room clearly. He lowered the bottle, and stumbled back to bed. Wiping sweat from his forehead, he let out a shaky breath.

"Son of bitch," he moaned to himself, and tried to drown the memory with numerous gulps of whiskey. Meg's words burned in his ears. He'd actually seen the demon responsible for killing Jo. Dean swallowed a larger gulp of whiskey. It burnt his throat as it slid down, until a comfortable numb feeling filtered through his body.

A prickling at the back of his neck alerted Dean to the fact that he wasn't alone. "Is it true?" Castiel didn't respond. Dean stared imploringly at the Angel standing at the end of his bed. "Did Meg send a demon after Jo?"

Castiel seemed to hesitate before answering. Dean thought he saw a small flicker of pain in the Angel's eyes before he resumed his normal emotionless stance. "She played a part, yes."

"Why her? Why did they single out Jo?" Dean questioned.

Castiel frowned, looking down at the floor. "We don't know," he answered avoiding his eyes. Dean didn't believe him.

"Is she… is she with you guys?" Dean cursed himself for the vulnerable tone in his voice - but he needed to know the truth. He needed to know that after everything she was safe and at peace.

Castiel didn't answer. Instead he studied Dean's face. Dean shifted uncomfortable under the scrutiny, and was about to tell him so when Castiel spoke, "Three weeks ago you refused to believe in our existence. Why does it matter now?"

Dean looked down at his scarred hands and shrugged. "I just want to know."

"She is…", Castiel paused, choosing his words carefully. "No longer suffering."

Dean nodded letting out a sigh of relief. "Is this what it's going to be like the rest of my life?" he asked quietly. "The nightmares…memories… whatever?"

"I have suppressed as many as I can." Castiel crossed the room and stood beside the window. Peeling back the shades carefully, he scanned the empty car park before turning back to Dean. "Your mind will seek to unearth the memories so long as you wish it to." His gaze turned sympathetic. "A human mind is very complex, if I destroyed all your memories you would have come back…different."

"Yeah well, _different_ might have been better," Dean admitted softly.

"I am…sorry," Castiel said slowly. "This is difficult."

"Ha! Difficult is my middle name." Dean climbed out of bed and placed his whiskey bottle on the table. "So have you got an address for m-" Dean turned back to Castiel only to discover the Angel was nowhere to be seen.

Releasing a frustrated groan, Dean headed back to bed. Pulling the blankets back onto his bed, he stopped when he heard the sound of fluttering wings. He turned around, and noticed a piece of paper perched beside the whiskey bottle. Picking it up he realised with a sigh that it was an address.

* * *

Hope this chapter answered a few questions for people! Would love to hear everyone's thoughts and theories! :D

* * *


	10. Chapter 10

**Rating: **M

**A/N: **Yeah, I know I said I wasn't going to update for a couple of days, but I couldn't help myself. After watching the new season 5 episode I just HAD to post. Anyway, I hope you guys like it (am very nervous about this chapter). Thank you to everyone for their reviews, encouragement and well wishes.

* * *

'**Turn off the Light'**

"This is ridiculous!" Sam hissed to himself, while pacing back and forth in front of Bobby's desk. The older hunter had retired to bed hours ago, but Sam was far from being relaxed enough to sleep. Dean hadn't answering his phone in two days, and Sam was fast out of patience. Ruby had kept her word and faded into the background, which left Bobby to drive him nuts trying to keep him busy with research.

Sam couldn't take another day of sitting around. He glanced at the back door, and considered his options. He could sneak out and find Dean, or he could sit around, for God only knew how long, twiddling his thumbs. He hadn't felt so bored since he was a kid.

Sam was hungry for action.

Decision made, Sam slipped upstairs, and began shoving as many clothes as he could fit into his bag. He added a few odd weapons, including Ruby's demon killing knife, and headed downstairs. He found Bobby's hidden stash of car keys (in the ice tray in the back of the freezer), and slipped out into the cool night. Sam felt guilty for not leaving Bobby a note, but knew the man would understand why he had to leave.

He reached Bobby's rusting Chevy, and put the car into neutral. Carefully, Sam threw his weight against the car, and started steering it down the driveway. Halfway down the hill, Sam jumped into the car, and tried starting the engine.

Nothing happened.

Pumping the accelerator to add more gas, he tried again - but the car refused to start. Sam threw the brakes on, and wrenched the handbrake up in disgust. Sam punched the steering wheel furious; Bobby had disabled the car.

"Problems?" Sam turned his head to see Ruby leaning through the passenger window. "Does Cinderella need help jump starting the pumpkin?"

"Can you fix it?" he inquired hopefully.

"Nope." Ruby stood up, and cocked her head to the right. "But who needs a pumpkin when your fairy godmother can produce a SUV?"

Sam quickly exited Bobby's car. Leaving the keys in the ignition, he grabbed his bag, and climbed into the black SUV. Ruby handed him the keys. "Your timing is brilliant," he acknowledged, as they quickly sped away from Bobby's house.

"I know," Ruby gloated. "I'm awesome."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and you're so modest."

"Hey," Ruby protested with a pout. "I've earned my high five. I got you a car, dinner…" She held up a silver flask and sloshed the contents around. "And I brought you some information."

"You know where Dean is?" Sam exclaimed excited.

"No," Ruby confessed, but her smile grew wider. "But I know where he's gonna be." Sam glanced at her intrigued and she waggled her eyebrows. "And I know who he's going to be with."

"Castiel?"

"Guess again, Sherlock," Ruby teased. "Try a woman by the name of Angela Hatcher."

***

"Thank God it's Friday!" Jo looked up from her paperwork, and smiled politely at her boss. "You got any plans this weekend?"

Jo shrugged, punching in a serial number in her computer. She highlighted the receipt number, and attached the receipt to the monthly account form. "Not really, Harry. Just thought I'd catch up on some reading," she answered distracted.

"But you're so young!" he exclaimed, pulling a wad of receipts, and invoices out of his jeans pocket, and dumping them in her in tray. Jo smiled, and shook her head before sorting through the new receipts. "You should be going out on hot dates, and having fun with your friends."

"And you might need a little less fun in your life, or your wife is going to make you sleep on the couch permanently," she teased.

He chuckled and sat down at his desk. The phone rang, and he leant over to answer it, "Harry's Plumbing Service… oh hey Jim! Yup… hang on… let me grab the appointment book."

Jo went back to trying to sort out Harry's accounts. After finally arriving in Arizona, Jo was fast out of money, and running out of options. She quickly searched for a job that would require little access to the public, for fear that someone would recognise her, and word would get back to her mother. Jo had suspected some divine intervention, when she had overheard Harry talking to the motel owner about how he needed someone to do his accounts. The job description sounded perfect, and she had quickly offered him her services. A week later, Jo had secured herself a small house to rent, and had settled in to her new life.

It had been hard. So many lonely nights she had lay awake thinking of her mom and Bobby, and wondering if they were safe and coping. She knew what her death must be doing to her mom, and was only comforted by the thought that, due to the change in relationship, Bobby would be there for her mom.

"Earth to Angela?" Jo looked up embarrassed. Despite living with her new identity for 2 months, she still had trouble remembering her new name. Harry grinned back at her. "I was calling your name for a good five minutes Ang, that must have been some good daydream?"

"I'm really sorry, Harry. What were you saying?"

"That it's time to go home." He pointed to the clock above her head, and Jo realised it was twenty minutes passed six.

"Oh," she breathed, and reluctantly started to pack up her desk.

"You sure you don't want to come out with me and the boys tonight?" he offered kindly. The 'boys' he was referring to were his two best friends from his bowling club. She had met them a couple of times when they dropped by the office, and had teased her playfully for throwing her life away working for Harry.

"Thanks, but a bowl of ice cream and some good book is calling my name," she lied, and was relieved when he didn't press her further.

"Alright then, see you Monday!" Harry left, whistling to himself happily. Jo went around the office shutting down the air conditioning and computers. By the time she had locked the small office, it was six thirty, and she had started to feel hungry.

Her single bedroom house was only a couple of blocks away from the small rundown office, and she was grateful. A full moon shone down above her head, and she made sure her knife was tucked securely in the waistband of her pants, before she set off down the dark streets. Head lowered and her eyes scanning her surroundings at all times, she walked home swiftly.

Reaching her house, Jo glanced around the quiet street cautiously, before pulling her keys out. She noted that the demon wards, and charms were still in place as she unlocked her door. With a final glance at the deserted street, she slipped inside.

As was routine, she checked all the salt lines in her house, and made sure all the charms hadn't been disturbed. Everything was as it should be. Jo kicked off her shoes, and made her way to the kitchen. Her fridge offered little in the way of a meal, and whilst pulling out a carton of milk; she heard a distinctive car engine grumble outside.

The car stopped, and the owner killed the engine. Jo grabbed her shotgun from the space between the fridge, and the wall. She hurried to the front window. A glossy, black 67 Impala sat in front of her house unoccupied.

"Sam," she gasped.

Dropping the blind, she backed away quietly. There was no time to flee the house without being detected. She listened to him striding up her walkway quickly, footsteps pausing at the front door. Jo bit her lip. Deciding she was better off hiding, a small part of her prayed Sam would go away if he suspected she wasn't home.

A light knock on the door echoed through the small house.

'_How did he find me?_ _I was so careful!'_ Jo went to great lengths to make sure she couldn't be followed by zig-zagging all over the country before resting in Arizona. Three fake identities later, she settled on Angela Hatcher. Even her position at Harry's was untraceable. She showed up a couple of hours a week and he paid her cash in hand.

The knocking repeated, this time with increased force. She glanced at the backdoor, hoping Sam hadn't brought Ruby with him. Even if he had - there was no way Ruby was getting into the house through the back door. Jo was positive that her house was demon proof.

The doorknob rattled, and she heard metal scraping against metal. Annoyed that Sam had the nerve to pick her lock, she slipped behind a wall, and waited for him to enter her house. The door swung open, and Jo waited.

"Hello? Angela?"

It wasn't Sam.

Blind panic flooded Jo's body. She recognised the voice at the door. Her eyes narrowed, heart beating brutally against her ribs. Somebody… _something_ was impersonating Dean Winchester's voice.

Jo listened intently for the smallest of creaks while he entered the house. Her grip tightened around her shotgun. He paused, inches from her, sensing that he wasn't alone. Jo held her breath. He resumed walking cautiously. The second his shadow slid passed her, she charged. Her firm fist connected sharply with his face, and he cried out in surprise.

"What the hell?" he moaned, hands cupping his nose. It was bleeding. Jo raised her shotgun, preparing to fire. Removing the safety lock, she opened fire, when he suddenly barrelled towards her. The gun clattered to the ground, a bullet chipping the tiles towards the door. His arms wound around her body tightly, and Jo raised her arms, imbedding her elbow into his chest plate roughly. He grunted, and tossed her down the hallway in retaliation. Her head hit the corner of the wall with a heavy thud.

"Fuck," she moaned, and rolled onto her back. He was on top of her in seconds, and she bit back a cry when he brutally grasped hold of her wrists. Instinct kicked in, and she brought her knees up to her chest, and drove her heels into his pelvis. He fell backwards, allowing her the time to scramble into the brightly lit kitchen. She pulled her knife out of her back pocket. It was small, but capable of causing permeant injury. She held her knife ready, crouching to anticipate his attack. Sure enough, he emerged from the dark hallway with a growl.

Green eyes widened in surprise. He stopped inches from her. "Jo?" he gasped astounded. Jo lunged forward. Anticipating her move, he stepped to the side, and caught her arm seconds before the knife had a chance to slash at his chest. His hand closed over her wrist securely, while his other arm shoved her elbow towards her face, and continued to press down. The reaction was instant. Her wrist twisted, she lost her grip on the knife, and it clattered to the floor. He loosened his grip, and pushed her backwards. Eyes widened in panic, she realised her rookie mistake when he scooped up the knife. "No," she breathed, backing away slowly.

"I thought you were dead," he gasped, his eyes raking over her.

Sensing she could possibly stall him with conversation, she responded to his statement, while thinking of an exit strategy. "I could say the same to you." Jo glanced at the back door behind her, trying to determine the distance.

"It won't work -- I'd reach you before you'd opened the door," he instructed her. He lowered the knife in his hand.

"What do you want?" Jo asked. She noted that he was only holding the knife loosely in his hand. Out of options, she launched herself recklessly towards him. With a raised leg, she kicked him in the sternum. He cried out, bending in half, and she pried the knife from his fingers. Knife now in her firm grip, she raised the knife above her head, and prepared to drive it down into his back.

"Wait!"

The desperate plea caught her off guard. Sensing her hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her waist, and drove them backwards. Jo lost her footing, and they landed on the floor with a thud. A mess of limbs, she retained her grip on her knife, and tried to roll free. He predicted her move, and rolled with her until he was straddling her. "I'm the real Dean!" he shouted.

"Prove it!" she grunted, wiggling underneath his body. Her back arched while she attempted to throw him off her hips.

He seemed momentarily stunned by her actions, and she misread the hunger on his face for murderous glee. Her legs found purchase on the ground, and she planted her heels and thrust upwards, her fists striking his chest, desperately trying to buck him off her body. He growled, and pressed her shoulders into the ground, adding more weight to her hips. "Stop! I'll prove it! Your middle name is Beth, you're mothers name is Ellen, your father was killed by a demon-"

"Not good enough," she snapped. He leant forward to increase the pressure on her squirming shoulders, and she head butted his already broken nose. He howled in pain, and let go. Jo used his moment of weakness to flip them over. Once on top of him, she raised her knife, ready to stab him.

"Ash was like a brother to you," he moaned, his green eyes pleading for her to listen. "Your dad taught you how to use a knife and you think REO Speedwagon sings from the heart-" Jo paused, stunned by his words.

Sensing her doubt, he shoved her roughly. Her head hit the wall behind her, and he snatched the knife out of her hand. Jo glared at him defiantly, while he raised the knife. She tensed, expecting him to end her… but he lowered the knife.

Yanking his sleeve towards his elbow, he hesitated before bringing the blade to his forearm. Jo's eyes widened. He grimaced and ran the blade across his arm, blood oozing from the fresh cut. "Could a shape shifter do that?" he demanded. "How many times do I have to cut myself before you people believe me?"

She stared up at him speechless. '_But how?'_ She thought, while hope and fear merged together in her heart. '_If he's not a shape shifter than what is he?'_ He handed her the knife and she took it suspiciously. Pressing a hand to his cut, he nodded at her. "Now you," he instructed and waved at her arm. "Come on, I had to do it. Prove you're the real Jo."

Jo hesitated, but upon seeing the determination in his eyes, she held out her arm and slowly drew the blade across it. She suppressed a hiss of the pain and showed him the bloody wound. "Happy?" He grunted, climbing slowly to his knees, and limped towards the small round dinning table.

"You got a towel or something?" he inquired, looking hopefully around the room. Warily, Jo climbed to her feet, pointedly keeping her back to the wall. She grabbed a box of tissue and threw them at him. Keeping an eye on him, she rinsed her cut in the kitchen sink, and picked up a dishtowel. Placing it to her wound, she pulled out the first aid kit from under the sink. The back of her head throbbed painfully. '_I bet I'm not the only one in pain,'_ she mused and watched him critically while he eased himself down in a chair.

Pulling out some large band-aids, she applied one to her wound. Dean rubbed his tender ribs, ignoring her suspicious glares. "If you're the real Dean," she spoke up. "Than how'd you escape hell?"

"After all the blood, you still need proof?" he asked her surprised. He applied the tissues to his arm and moped up the excess blood. A trickle of blood slithered from his nose and landed on her floor. Jo grimaced. "Some people are so hard to please." He pulled out a fresh wad of tissues, applying it to his nose, while pressing the bridge of his nose. "If you must know-"

"It is not safe here."

Castiel materialized beside Jo, his trench coat billowing. She stared at him bewildered, her breath caught in her throat.

"It's about time," Dean murmured behind a shield of tissues. "Lucy, you've got some splanning to do!"

Jo shifted her gaze to Dean incredulously. Despite the personal memories he had shared and the blood demonstration, she was still weary of the person bleeding all over her kitchen. He sounded exactly like Dean. Jo could admit to the fact that he wasn't a shape shifter, but she didn't trust that it wasn't something else supernatural. "Castiel?" she questioned the Angel beside her, hoping to gain some clarity.

Castiel greeted her with a concerned frown. "You must leave this place. Dean was followed and the demon alerted the others. You do not have much time." He turned to Dean. "Head for the mountains. I will guide you to a safe house once you are there."

"But-" Jo started to argue. '_What does Castiel expect from me? Did he seriously recruit this Dean impostor to help me complete my so-called destiny?'_ Jo didn't understand how Castiel could expect her to trust the thing that looked so much like Dean. She desperately sought answers to her questions, but she suspected none were forth coming.

"He is not a shape shifter or a demon," Castiel assured her, as if reading her mind. "He is the real Dean Winchester." Jo opened her mouth to protest. _'The real Dean? Dean was dead. He's in hell – not glaring over a pile of bloody tissues. There was no way…' _but Castiel silenced her unspoken questions with a pleading look. "I will explain later. You are safe with him."

Jo glanced suspiciously at Dean. He was still glaring at Castiel. A drop of blood escaped the tissues, and travelled down his face. Before she knew what she was doing, she opened one of the drawers by the sink, and pulled out a zip-lock bag. Throwing open her freezer door, she grabbed a messy handful of ice, and dropped them into the bag. Sealing it shut, she grabbed the towel, and headed towards Dean.

He raised his eyebrows at her, but lowered the tissues from his nose, and sniffed. She screwed her face up at the swollen mess, and placed the make shift icepack on his nose gently. His eyes shut momentarily, only opening a moment later to wordlessly give her his thanks. Jo noted that under the streaks of blood his nose was adorned with freckles. '_I never noticed,'_ she thought absent-mindedly.

His fingers reached up to take over holding the icepack, and she shook herself from her thoughts to pay closer attention. Releasing the ice pack, she withdrew her hand slowly when his fingers brushed against her own. Jo had never felt anything like it. A pooling of warmth threaded through her fingers, and down her arm. Her heart missed a beat, and suddenly she was back in the roadhouse staring dreamily at the guy who had strolled into her mom's bar with haunted eyes and a cheeky smile.

Dean's pupils dilated, and he studied her face curiously. One of his rough fingers brushed by the top of her knuckles. The tingling sensation increased, and excitement flooded her stomach.

No sooner had the moment appeared, it dissolved. Jo snatched her hand away, and hurried back into the kitchen. Castiel eyed them pensively. Jo opened the oven door, retrieving her bag of weapons, and dumped them on the counter. Dean was staring at her.

Wordlessly Jo slipped her discarded shoes on, while Dean pulled the ice pack off his face, and tenderly examined his nose. She was about to make for her bedroom for additional supplies, when the light in the hallway started to flicker angrily.

Jo froze.

A heavy object landed above her head with a sickening crack. The blood in her veins turned to ice. Jo stared at the ceiling with an increasing feeling of dread. She felt Castiel's hand close over her shoulder; footsteps scurried across the roof.

"Go," Castiel shouted urgently and pointed to the front door. "Dean, get her out of here as fast as you can!"

Dean snapped to attention, abandoning the ice pack, and sprinting for the door, Jo close on his heels. They paused at the door. Dean took the offered shotgun from Jo, and slowly inched the door open. Urgent footsteps scampered above their heads, and disappeared towards the left side of her house. Jo held her breath, hand clutching the strap of her bag tightly, eyes alert for danger. Dean craned his neck, cautiously stepping outside.

A blur of black sinister shadows darted towards them. Dean fired. The demon, possessing a bald headed muscle bound man, crumbled to the ground howling in pain. Dean fired again. The neighbour's porch lights snapped on. "Hurry!" Castiel urged, and pushed Jo into Dean. "Do not let her out of your sight."

Dean nodded, exchanging a confused glance with Jo, and grasped her arm. The two hunters bolted across the lawn to the Impala. Reaching the car, he let go of her, unlocking the door with one hand, the other trained on the writhing demon. Door open, Jo threw her bag into the backseat. She had barely slid into the car, when Dean floored the accelerator. Jo spied Castiel crouching beside the demon with an emotionless look on his face.

***

It was a tense couple of minutes of checking over their shoulders to see if they were being followed. The Impala snarled as they swept through sleepy streets, houses and stores a blur. Jo prayed there were no cops on random patrols that would pull Dean over for speeding.

"Are you OK?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Jo noticed Dean kept shooting her little glances. He licked his lips, hands tightened on the steering wheel, and shifted in his seat. Doubt crept into her mind. '_Has the impossible happened? Could it really be Dean sitting beside me?' _He glanced over at her again, and she wondered if he could read the panic and confusion dwelling in her eyes. "Dean?" she started tentatively.

"You look pretty good for a dead person," he confessed, wiping his still slightly bloody nose with the back of his sleeve.

Jo raised her eyebrow. '_Did he just call me pretty?' _Jo was temporarily overwhelmed by the scent of leather, whiskey and something distinctly Dean drifting past her nose. She clutched the seat underneath her. '_It can't be the real Dean_,' she told herself sternly. There was no sense getting her hopes up if he only turned out to be a clone or something equally as strange. "Same," Jo answered him cautiously.

"But that-" he started, and glanced in the rear view mirror. A blue mini van lingered behind them. He increased their speed. "What's going on?" he hissed.

"You tell me," she answered, glancing over her shoulder. It was too dark to see inside the vans tinted windows. "Last I heard - you were in hell."

"I was." He turned onto the main highway, and Jo was grateful there were very few cars on the road. The mini van disappeared behind them. Jo turned her attention to what Dean was saying, her hands still gripping the upholstery underneath her. "Castiel yanked me out."

"Why?" She fought a useless battle to remain hope free. '_Why didn't Castiel tell me?' _The last two months had been cloaked with secrecy, and she had received no words of assurance or a clue as to what the elusive Angel had planned for her. Jo would have liked to believe that after everything, Castiel might have mentioned the small detail that he was planning on rescuing Dean from hell.

"Said he had work for me," Dean said vaguely, interrupting her from her thoughts. He glanced over at her, raking his curious eyes up and down her body. Jo dismissed his gaze by looking out the window, and he snapped his attention back to the road. "What about you? How do you know Castiel?"

Jo bit her lip. She considered telling him the truth. However, part of her was still convinced he was a trick, and that Castiel had conjured him as a test of her faith and determination. Jo felt sick with doubt. The little movements, and noises Dean made helped to dissolve her distrust. "A demon killed me," she finally admitted quietly. "But he…Castiel… he came to me and gave me a choice."

"What kind of a choice?" He peered over his shoulder at a car full of teenagers in a black Jeep. Changing lanes, he waited to see if they would follow him. They drove past without a glance of interest towards him, and he released a heavy breath.

Watching the teenagers merge into another lane, she couldn't deny the envy she felt for their carefree lifestyle. She bristled at her own traitorous feelings. '_I chose this life,'_ she reminded herself. She spied Dean scratching the back of his head with a wary look on his face. She realised he was still waiting for her to answer his question. "Um, he said I could help the Angels fight the demons or I could die."

"Some choice."

"No." She shook her head in disagreement. "I could have gone on to Heaven. It seemed… nice there. Safe." He glanced at her bewildered, before dragging his eyes back to the road.

"Heaven?" he asked with disbelief evident in his tone.

Jo nodded. "You went to hell - is it really so hard to believe?"

"Maybe," he muttered. He glanced over at her again, and she realised he must have noticed her tense body language, because he gave her a gentle smile. "It's ok. I promise I'm the real Dean." Jo nodded but didn't relax. Instead, she stared at the man in the semi trailer beside them. The truck driver continued to drive oblivious to her scrutiny, and eventually Dean over took him. "So… how long?"

"What?" she replied, distracted. Her heart was still beating rapidly from narrowly escaping a demon attack. Jo wondered if Castiel had managed to fend off any remaining demons. Guilt flared in her stomach. '_I hope he's OK.'_

"How long have you… you know… been alive?" Dean asked. He sniffed and raised a hand to his nose – the bleeding had stopped, but it was still swollen.

"Since August."

"I bet your mom is relieved. Bobby of course has no idea. Or at least I don't think he does… he's not that good of an actor," Dean mused.

Jo bit her lip, and looked down at her lap. "My mom doesn't know. Nobody knows," she explained sadly. "Castiel said I had to disappear - but obviously I slipped up because you found me easy enough."

"I didn't find you," Dean rushed to correct her. "Castiel sent me. I was told I was looking for an 'Angela'." He frowned, "Did he tell you how you're supposed to help stop the demons or what we're supposed to be doing?"

"No," she answered truthfully. "He told me to go into hiding and that he would send someone to help me. He was very insistent that no one know I was alive or the demons would see me as a target."

After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, Dean clucked his tongue. Jo looked at him. "What?"

"Do you ever get the feeling that we are just puppets to them?" he inquired with a disgruntled frown. "They never tell me _anything_. I'm sick of being jerked around." Jo nodded half-heartedly in agreement, not really comprehending why he sounded so upset. She assumed Dean had his own history with Castiel. They fell back into silence. Jo resumed staring out the window until Dean leant forward and inserted his cassette. The sounds of Metallica filled the car and she glanced at him curiously. He grinned, "Sorry. No REO in my car."

Jo's heart stuttered painfully at his casual use of a private joke. She forced herself to turn away again. Doubt continued to pluck away at her mind. Was it really so hard for her to believe Dean was alive? Castiel had raised her from the dead after all -- Plus the Winchesters were known for escaping death by the skin of their teeth. "Like a damn cat with nine lives," she muttered to herself.

"What?" Dean asked.

"Nothing," Jo mumbled, embarrassed that she had spoken her thoughts out loud.

Gradually the traffic thinned, and Jo started to relax as the adrenaline dissolved. Worry and concern replaced panic, and she started to fret about what she was going to do next. She squinted into the dark, trying to make out the mountains on the horizon.

Dean tore his eyes from the road and looked across at her. She noted the dried blood on his face, and grimaced. While part of her thought he probably deserved a right hook to the nose; she was starting to feel bad. "Sorry," she spoke up earning a confused look from him. "For the nose… I thought you were a shape shifter."

He shrugged nonchalantly. "My fault. I would have done the same if you had broken into my house. Especially when you're meant to be dead." He grinned boyishly and Jo's heart began to beat faster.

Something inside of her clicked. Sucking in a startled breath, Jo realised she was looking at the very smile she thought she'd never seen again. '_He's alive! He's alive and sitting right next to me.'_ Jo struggled to maintain even breaths.

"You alright?" he asked, glancing at her concerned. His hand strayed from the steering wheel and gently nudged her leg. "If you're gonna be sick please don't do it in my car. I'll pull over."

Heart pounding, ears ringing, she shook her head at his comment. "I'm Ok," she breathed. His hand returned to the steering wheel and she found it easier to breathe. Dean looked worried. "A lot has happened in the last couple of months," she explained. "It kinda just hit me."

Dean nodded sympathetically. "I hear that. It's been ever so helpful that Castiel pops in when it's convenient for him, but then magically disappears when you need some answers."

"I came as fast as I could."

Dean swerved violently to the left as Castiel appeared without warning in the backseat. "Don't do that!" Dean swore angrily, swinging the car back onto the road. He glared at Castiel in the rear view mirror before he glanced across at Jo. She struggling to sit up properly after being slammed into the passenger door. "You ok?"

"Yeah." She nodded shakily, and turned around in her seat. "Castiel is it safe?"

Castiel dipped his head. "They are headed in the opposite direction."

"Why didn't you just kill them?" Dean asked frustrated.

"It would have aroused suspicion," Castiel answered with a deadpanned expression on his face. "I left fake breadcrumbs for them to follow instead."

"So what now?" Dean pressed impatiently.

"Take the next turn off."

Dean growled with frustration and took the upcoming turn off. "Come on Cass, I need more than that. I need the who, what, when and whys?"

"Dean-" Jo warned sensing that Dean's temper was about to be unleashed.

"No!" he snapped looking agitated. "I've been kept in the dark for too long now. I _need_ to know what's going on."

"You have to be patient," she advised, noticing that Castiel was glowering at the back of Dean's head. She placed a soothing hand on Dean's shoulder, and tried not to acknowledge the thrill that coursed through her at the contact.

Dean ignored her and increased his speed. "Excuse me if I am not in the mood to be patient, Jo. I've been to hell, ok? You don't know what it was like-"

"Yes, she does."

Dean's eyes flicked dangerously to the rear view mirror. He clenched his teeth and his voice was as sharp as steel, "What?"

Castiel met his gaze calmly. "I allowed Joanna a glimpse of your location."

"What?!?!" Dean exploded. His eyes snapped to Jo in surprise, and she nodded hesitantly with confirmation. "Are you running tour guides to hell now?" he snarled at Castiel. "Did you get her a t-shirt from the hell gift shop too?"

"Dean, stop-"

"I can't believe you did that Cass! What kind of a sick-"

"Dean!"

"What?!"

"The road!" Jo shouted, and pointed at the windscreen alarmed. Dean swore and swerved, narrowly missing a towering collection of cactus on the side of the road. Huffing, he seethed at the road in front of him.

Jo looked over her shoulder and sighed. "He's gone," she told him with a disappointed frown.

"Good," Dean declared, shifting in his seat angrily.

"No. Not good," she corrected with a frustrated sigh. She had forgotten what a temper Dean had, and how unreasonable he could be. Unfortunately she didn't have his younger brother at her disposal to make him see sense. Her heart stilled. _Sam. _Jo wondered why he wasn't glued to his brother side. "Where's Sam?"

Dean gritted his teeth. "Tweety Bird wanted Sam to have some shore leave."

Jo bit her lip to stop herself from smiling. No good would come from Dean giving the Angel a new nickname. Obviously Castiel had his reasons for wanting Sam away from Dean (which Jo thought was an impossible task), and she suspected it might have to do with Sam using his powers. "Well next time I'll do the talking, or we'll never get any answers."

"Is that right?" he challenged with a scowl.

She looked across at him determined. Dean pouted and all her anger vanished. Jo tried not to laugh -- she suspected he would have stamped his foot if he weren't driving. "Yup," she said struggling to hide her grin. "Now keep your eyes upfront hell boy," she ordered.

Dean looked over at her incredulously. She raised a challenging eyebrow at him and he frowned. Turning back to the road, he started grumbling under his breath. Jo reached forward, and turned up the volume on the radio to drown him out.

***

Two hours later they stopped to fill the car with gas and stock up on food. Dean had disappeared inside the small store to pay, when Castiel reappeared in the backseat. Startled, Jo greeted him with a gentle smile.

"I thought I instructed him not to let you out of his sight," he whispered looking anxiously around the car.

"Is everything alright?" she asked him concerned. Jo glanced around the busy gas station and kept a suspicious eye on every person that entered and exited.

"There is a lot of demon activity," Castiel confided. "It is difficult to monitor it all."

"Shouldn't we stay and fight?" she asked, turning in her seat to look at him properly.

Castiel shook his head and turned to watch Dean progress in the line to pay. "It's imperative that the two of you arrive at this location quickly." He handed her a piece of paper. "Stay there as long as you can. Do not draw attention to yourselves. Do not contact anyone."

"What about Sam?" Jo asked. Dean finished paying and was heading back to the car with a bag full of food and drinks. "He's going to be suspicious if Dean disappears. You can't expect Dean to abandon his brother."

Castiel frowned and Jo suspected that he was aware that separating the two would be difficult. "It is proving to be a significant problem."

"Hey-"

Jo jumped as Dean shoved her awake. She looked up dazed, and turned around in her seat to find the backseat empty. She let out a tired sigh, sinking back into seat. Dean was staring at her apprehensively. "Castiel," she murmured and realised she was clutching a piece of paper in her hand. She opened the folded note and read the address out loud.

"Guess you weren't kidding about doing the talking," he smirked, starting the car. When she didn't respond, he glanced back at her. "You OK?"

Jo nodded, running an exhausted hand through her hair. "Yeah," she mumbled. "Just peachy." She waved the piece of paper at him. "The safe house should only be a couple of hours from here."

"Then what?"

"We wait," she told him bluntly.

"Great," he grumbled. "I _love_ waiting around."

"Would you prefer being tortured in hell?" she retorted with a raised eyebrow.

Dean shrugged. "Ask me again in a couple of hours."

***

"Anything?" Ruby asked when Sam returned to the SUV. Two police officers were running crime scene tape around the house across the street, while the neighbours looked on curiously from their lawns.

Sam shook his head, tucking his FBI badge into his pocket. "She's long gone. No sign of Dean either." Ruby started the car and drove away. Sam ran an exhausted hand through his long hair; it had been a long day. "She was expecting company though. There were demon wards and salt everywhere. The cops think she was into witch craft, but the neighbours are insisting she was a nice, normal girl, who never gave them trouble."

"We could try the GPS for Dean's phone signal again?"

Sam screwed up his face. "No, he knows that would be the first thing I would check," Sam replied, watching the scenery flick by. He frowned and turned towards Ruby. "You know what was weird though? There was something familiar about the house."

Ruby looked intrigued. "What? You think you had a vision or something of the house before?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know. They were dusting for prints in her bedroom and some of her clothing look familiar."

"Sam," Ruby started with a laugh. "I don't know how to tell you this, but not a lot of women wear one of a kind clothes. Most of us all shop at the same places." Ruby chuckled. "We can't all have Paris Hilton's money."

"Maybe." Sam didn't look convinced. "I dunno Ruby. I just got a strange vibe."

"It could mean you are just picking up on Dean. You guys are really close, so you might have sensed his essence."

Sam screwed up his face in disgust. "Ew."

Ruby rolled her eyes, shoving Sam in the ribs. "Don't be such a girl. I'm serious, Sam. We haven't really tested the full strength of your abilities. Maybe this is just another one of them."

"Yeah, but we agreed I wasn't going to do that for a while," Sam reminded her with a stern glance. Ruby shrugged and flicked her hair over her shoulder.

"Whatever, you're the boss."

Sam sighed and he contemplated the car beside them while Ruby stopped at a traffic light. "If they were such good powers, why can't they give me a clear indication of where Dean is?"

"Cheer up big guy!" Ruby urged, and took her foot off the brake when the light changed. "I'll drop you at a motel and go and do some research of my own. Sometimes a good summoning spell is better than a GPS anyway."

"Are you sure?"

Ruby nodded and patted his lap. "As sure as I know that I am awesome and that you're going to shout me a bowl of French fries when we find your brother."

"Deal."

* * *

So? Thoughts? Questions? Flames? Be gentle :D

I should also mention a big thanks to my dad, who is a weapons instructor, who gave me a quick lesson on how an experienced person would use a knife, and how to deflect an attack. A perfectly good shirt was sacrificed for research for this chapter - it now was a slash mark *sigh*


	11. Chapter 11

**Rating: **M

**A/N: **Special thanks goes out to Hannah and Dora, who let me drive them nuts with a couple of different alternatives to this chapter, and to Ness who I kept awake till 2am discussing plots and how to write smut. I _seriously_ do not know how I managed to work the next day, and not just mumble 'Dean is smexy' to my customers! :D

* * *

'**Every You and Every Me'**

The couple of hours drive to the safe house, turned out to be six long hours. Eventually, after spending two of the six hours backtracking to throw any demons off their trail, the Impala came to a stop in front of a wooden cabin nestled in the uneven mountains. Thick forest surrounded the small cabin and Dean had needed to use his high beams to find the driveway in the dark.

Dean motioned for Jo to grab her shotgun, and they slowly approached the cabin. Reaching the steps, Jo stood guard monitoring their surroundings, while Dean picked the rusty lock. A few minutes later, Dean took the small flashlight out of his mouth and pushed against the heavy door. It groaned and jammed halfway. A curtain of dust and cobwebs showered down on Dean's head as he shoved against the door. Jo glanced over her shoulder. Inside the cabin the bulky furniture was covered in dusty yellow sheets and all the curtains were drawn tightly.

Light flared inside, and Dean stood back to reveal a lit oil lantern. He placed it on top of a sheet-covered table and disappeared into a small dark hallway. Jo turned her attention back to the surrounding black forest. Due to the full moon, she was able to make out the tall pine trees shivering in the breeze. In the distance nocturnal creatures went about their normal routine of foraging for food.

"It's all clear. I'm going to do a sweep outside," Dean announced returning to her side. Jo nodded and lowered her shotgun. Placing the safety back on, she shifted the gun under her arm and headed inside.

Jo noted the empty brick fireplace in the middle of the main room. Tugging at one sheet, she exposed a red, suede-covered armchair. A similar sized lump, closest to the fireplace, produced a matching chair. Jo moved on to explore the opposite side of the room. In the makeshift kitchen, she found a small, dirt encrusted sink under a stain-glassed window and an old fridge wedged beside a grimy food storage cupboard.

The house shuddered violently and Jo heard Dean cry out. Running to the door, Jo spotted Dean emerging from the side of the house with his finger stuck in his mouth. He pulled it free and shook it. "What happened?" she asked concerned.

"Found the breaker box. One of the switches gave me a jolt." He showed her his finger. Jo gave him a tiny sympathetic smile and went to the car to retrieve their belongings. Dean headed inside to test the lights.

Hefting Dean's duffle bag over her shoulder, she grabbed her weapons bag and the food supplies and locked the car. She was halfway up the stairs, when the interior lights snapped on. Placing Dean's bag on an armchair, she dumped the remaining bags on the table, now sans a sheet, and started rummaging through her bag until she found a large can of salt.

Jo quickly went to work adding salt lines to the windows and doorways. Once she was finished in the main room and the kitchen, she headed down a small hallway she had seen Dean disappear in earlier. The only bedroom in the cabin was vacant, and she pushed aside the lace curtains to add a thick salt line to the windowsill.

Replacing the curtains, she discovered a small cross, no bigger than her hand, nailed above the frame. Her eyes swept across the room, and she realised there was a similar cross nailed above the large double bed. A quick inspection of the oak closet by the door, revealed several men's shirts, a series of cotton summer dresses and a pink knitted sweater. Jo closed the doors and headed into hallway. She pushed the door opposite the bedroom open, and stepped inside to find Dean fiddling with the taps in a small bathroom. A deep groan echoed through the pipes, and the tap under Dean's hand rattled.

Without warning, muddy brown liquid erupted from the tap, spraying Dean with sullied water. Jo tried not to laugh at his disgruntled cry. He quickly turned the tap backwards and wiped drips out of his eyes. The stream of water subsided to a trickle and clear water dribbled nosily into the basin. "Nice." Jo commented with a grin. She squeezed past him to access the small window above the toilet, and laid down another thick salt line.

"I think it's safe to say the owners haven't been here in a while," Dean mused out loud, puling his t-shirt forward and squeezing out the excess water into the sink.

"My guess is it's a holiday house," Jo told him, heading for the door. "I found a bunch of summer clothes in the closest." Dean nodded and followed her out of the bathroom and into the main room. Spotting his bag on the armchair, he unzipped it and started combing through it until he found a clean shirt.

Jo glanced down at the now empty salt can self-consciously, and tried not to stare as Dean took off his shirt. Her heart skipped a beat when she caught a glimpse of his long tanned back. She gulped nervously, fingers aching to glide across the small spattering of freckles adorning his shoulders. "Y-You.. um," she cleared her throat and tried again, cursing herself for acting like an adolescent. "Are you hungry?"

Dean, oblivious to her longing gaze, finished pulling on a clean shirt. "Starving… but I doubt you've got a burger and fries hiding in that bag," he joked and bent down beside the fireplace. He started plucking logs and kindling from a large wicker basket.

Refusing to stand around like a shy awkward teenager, she headed into the kitchen area. She reached behind the fridge, trying not to cry out when something furry brushed across her hand and searched for the power cord. Locating the cord, she pushed past the sticky spider webs and plugged in the old appliance.

The fridge coughed and started to hum loudly. Satisfied, she began exploring the cupboards. Jo made a mental stock of all the tins of fruit and spreads, until she came across the last cupboard. She smiled and bent down to inspect the contents. Reaching forward, she pulled out two bottles of scotch.

"Must be your birthday Winchester, I just found the party." She waved the bottles at him.

Dean turned his head, cigarette lighter in hand, and grinned his approval. "Sweet," he crooned.

"Jeez, they must have robbed a whole liquor store," she exclaimed, continuing to rummage through the assorted coloured bottles. She chuckled when she found a bottle of cough syrup sitting behind some vodka.

"What?" Dean asked, appearing beside her. She pulled the expired cough syrup out and showed him the bottle. He shrugged, "When you're desperate I guess."

Jo replaced the bottle and stood up, her knees cracking. She noted the fire roaring happily in the fireplace. "Nice work," Jo approved.

"I'm a jack of all trades," he said and yawned. He glanced at his watch – it was already early morning. "Do you want to grab some sleep? I'll take first watch," he offered.

"Do you think its safe?" Jo was concerned. Even with Dean's lifetime of experience and knowledge, she didn't think it would be enough if two or more demons attacked the small cabin.

Dean shrugged. "What else can we do? Cass said this was a safe house, and you said yourself he told us to hide here as long as we could." He picked up his bag and placed it beside hers on the table. Pushing aside clothes and toiletries, he pulled out a chunk of chalk. "If it makes you feel safer, I can draw a bunch of devils trap and some wards?"

Jo looked down at her feet feeling sheepish. There was no way she was ever going to hear the end of it, if she revealed how terrified she really was. Instead, she aimed for looking slightly bored by their situation. She shrugged and mumbled, "If you want."

"It won't do much," he admitted bluntly. "But I guess it's better than nothing." He left her to observe the fireplace and add more wood accordingly, while he set to work. It only took a few minutes for his skilled hand to draw the symbols and lines Bobby had drilled into him religiously. His works of art completed, he dropped down in one of the armchairs satisfied. "I'm wiped," he announced kicking off his boots.

"I'm still buzzing from earlier," Jo admitted dropping a larger log onto the fire. "Why don't you grab some sleep, since you've been doing all the driving?" Dean shook his head stubbornly, but Jo could see the fatigue embedded in his shoulders. "Alright then… Why don't we both just keep an eye out and take turns at napping?"

Dean shrugged and leant back in his armchair. "Whatever," he mumbled sounding irritated.

Jo picked up her rifle from the table and placed it on the floor beside the other armchair and sat down. After a couple of minutes of avoiding each other's gaze, she settled for staring at the fire. The warmth slowly eased into the cold cabin and Jo found she was hypnotised by the dancing yellow-orange flames. Gradually, the weeks of being on her own and facing the world without a friend, started to encroach on her mind. Depressed, Jo lifted her legs and folded them against her chest. She wound her arms around her knees and hugged them tightly.

She peeked over at Dean. His eyes were closed. She wondered if he had fallen asleep, when he spoke. "Just resting my eyes," he assured her without moving. Jo nodded and went back to staring at the fire. Part of her secretly wondered if she was having another bizarre dream; but the reassuring deep breaths beside her convinced her otherwise.

'_I never thought I'd miss the Roadhouse as much as I do right now_,' she thought glumly and closed her eyes.

***

"What do you want now?"

Ruby lowered her eyes accordingly, and stepped out of the shadows. She meekly peered through her thick lashes at the stunning blonde standing beside her SUV. "I summoned you because I need some information," she explained, her voice filled with respect and submission.

"Well I'm busy," The fierce looking woman snapped.

Ruby raised her face hesitantly. "I'm trying to track Dean Winchester's exact location. He disappeared after leaving Colorado Springs."

The blonde folded her arms crossly. Her eyes glittered with irritation. "What do I look like? Google Maps? Do your own dirty work."

"Sam is getting anxious," Ruby knew she was pushing her luck, but she needed help and groveling was her only option. She lowered her head again, and took a careful step towards the other woman. "You know what he's like. If he doesn't find his brother soon-"

"His brother has been in hell for four months. I'm sure a couple of days is no big deal." The blonde turned her back, and made to leave when Ruby begged her to stop.

"Please? It's not like I'm being lazy. I've tried a dozen spells," she pleaded desperately. "Nothing I've tried can pinpoint his exact position. It's like a fog is following him permanently."

"Most likely his position is being protected," the blonde responded with little enthusiasm. "If the girl is with him you can guarantee that the Angels are putting up their shields."

"Is there any way we can track him?" Ruby queried, her eyes full of concern.

The blonde considered her request. After a few terrifying minutes, the older woman smiled. "Since I'm in such a good mood, I'll give you this one for free." She reached into her pocket and produced a small black pouch. "Combine some of Sam's blood with this herb and you should be able to pinpoint Dean's current location. My men are already following a lead, but if you reach Dean first-"

"I know what to do," Ruby promised. She took the pouch from her extended pale hand and bowed. "Thank you, Lilith."

"Time's running out Ruby. You best make sure Sam's ready for the big day," Lilith warned. Ruby nodded eagerly, her eyes swearing her allegiance. Lilith smirked before turning, and disappeared into the night.

Ruby clutched the small pouch tightly. "He'll be ready," she whispered and climbed into her car.

***

Jo slowly blinked sunlight out of her eyes, and stretched her stiff legs. With a soft smile, she realised the pleasant warmth enveloping her, was the direct result of Dean's leather jacket draped around her arms. She inhaled the warm scent, shivers of delight slithering through her body, and glimpsed the empty armchair beside her with disappointment.

She sat up straighter, and analysed the small room. The embers in the fireplace glowed drowsily. A thunderous crack echoed outside the house, startling Jo to her feet. She made her way swiftly to the kitchen window, and peeked through the dusty curtains. Another crack resonated through the woods, and she finally spotted Dean swinging an axe towards the ground.

The blade cut easily through the brown log, and split the wood in half cleanly. Jo found herself appraising his body while watching him reach for the remaining logs. She had no idea he was capable of being so domestic. As if sensing her eyes on him, he paused and looked over his shoulder. Jo quickly let go of the curtain, and stepped away from the window.

Embarrassed, she headed down the hallway and opened the linen closet curiously. Inside she found three canary yellow towels, and a box full of vanilla scented soap. Jo smiled relieved, and sniffed the soap. It smelt divine. She headed to the bathroom with her discoveries, and started the shower.

It took a while for the hot water to kick in, and while she waited she cleaned the cobwebs from the shower, and removed the splatters of muddy water Dean had left the night before. Steam finally started to trickle through the bathroom. Jo tested the temperature of the water before stripping, and she stepped inside the shower. The water luxuriously spilled over her tight shoulders, leaving a soothing trail as it descended down her body. She moaned her approval. It was with heavy reluctance that she had to wash herself quickly before the hot water ran out. Upon finishing her shower, Jo discovered she had mistakenly left her spare clothes in her weapons bag.

Wrapping the small towel around her body, she opened the bathroom door. The cabin was quiet. She craned her neck, trying to see if Dean was still outside chopping firewood. Confident she was alone - she made a quick dash down the hall for her bag.

The main room was deserted, and she grabbed her weapons bag. Rushing back to the bathroom, she didn't see Dean step out of the bedroom until it was too late. They collided headfirst with a painful jolt, and Jo dropped her bag on Dean's sock clad feet. "Jesus Jo, are you trying to kill me?" Holding a hand to his head, he bent down to pick up her bag at the same time she leaned forward to do the exact same thing, and they clinked heads again.

"Ow!" Stunned momentarily by the repeated impact, Jo stepped backwards. Water slid between her toes, creating a little puddle, and with a small cry she lost her balance when her feet couldn't grip onto the floorboards. Dean's arm shot out to catch her before she could fall, but his hand closed over the towel and Jo tumbled to the ground, sans her towel.

Jo flushed red with humiliation. Snatching her towel off him, she struggled to hold it to her body while accepting Dean's extended hand. Once she was on her feet (and glaring at the traitorous puddle on the floor), she realised Dean's eyes were fixed on her stomach. He made to touch her hip, but she cleared her throat warningly. He tore his eyes away guiltily.

"Wait…it's just…" He paused, and while she clutched the towel tighter to her body, he pulled up his shirtsleeve. Engraved in his shoulder was a red, angry looking scarred handprint.

Her eyes widened and she reached out to touch his shoulder gently. Upon contact with the scar, a surge of warmth flushed through her stomach. Jo snapped her hand back startled. She pressed a hand to her stomach. Pulling the towel aside slightly, she revealed an identical handprint on her stomach.

"Woah," Dean breathed. He reached out a hesitant hand to her stomach. The moment his shaking fingers brushed across the scar, a jolt ran through her. A rush of adrenaline and lust spread through her body with a delicious after burn.

"Woah," Jo echoed him. She was pleasantly surprised to discover his eyes had darkened, and he was staring at her in a way that left no doubt in her mind that he had experienced the same reaction. He licked his cracked lips, and before Jo could think twice, she pressed her lips to his mouth urgently.

A small zap of static electricity tickled her lips. When he didn't respond to her insistent kiss, she wrenched her lips away feeling mortified. Rejection tearing at her heart, she retreated, hugging the towel to her body. Her eyes dropped to the floor horrified. '_What the hell did I do that for?'_

"Jo-" Dean's hand swiftly latched onto her arm.

Jo looked up surprised by the urgent tone in his voice. Without warning he yanked her towards his body, and hungrily captured her lips in a bruising kiss. Stunned, she forgot to hold on to her towel, and it fell by their feet forgotten.

Dean's hands rose to cup her face. Jo felt her heart sore with happiness. One of his hands moved to tangle itself in her hair, while the other one slid with agonising tenderness down her arm. Jo greedily slipped her tongue into his mouth, and was delighted when he groaned in response. Their tongues duelled for dominance, and Jo wondered absently why he tasted like chocolate.

His right hand grazed over the sensitive skin on her hips, and she wound her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. Dean's fingers danced up and down her spine rapidly, and she was overwhelmed by the deep desire between her legs that demanded more of his attention.

Jo broke free for a moment to absorb Dean's ravenous expression. Abruptly, she shoved him backwards. He let go of her surprised, panting heavily. "Bed," she growled out, and he glanced over his shoulder. The bedroom beckoned behind him. He turned back to her with a mischievous grin. Lunging at her, he swept her up in his strong arms. She cried out delighted, wrapping her legs around his waist as he walked them towards the bed.

His knees hit the side of the bed frame, and they fell back onto the mattress with a dusty laugh, and frantic kisses. He wasted no time in making her moan, and Jo revelled in the feel of his hands dragging roughly across her thighs. She tugged impatiently at his shirt. With out missing a beat, he yanked his shirt and necklace over his head, and his jeans quickly followed suit.

Her lips broke free from his possessive mouth, and proceeded to leave a devoted path across his chin and neck. Dean gasped her name into her hair when her tongue found a particularly sweet spot near his ear, and his teeth descended upon her shoulder. Hissing as her teeth tugged gently at his earlobe, he cupped her breasts fervently. Marking her as his own, Dean's mouth found it's way down her collarbone and towards her breasts. Jo arched her back, grinding her hips against his crotch to encourage his ministrations.

Completely unaware of their audience, Dean's lips continued their trek across Jo's body, her cries piercing the mid morning air. Castiel turned away from the couple; satisfaction evident in his gait. With little more than a gentle breeze, he disappeared down the hallway.

***

Dean didn't know how much longer he could hold his bladder. His stomach burned with the desire to relieve itself, but there wasn't a chance in hell that he was going to move and risk waking Jo. He glanced down at her still sleeping form and quickly looked away. His arm, trapped beneath her creamy exposed flesh, throbbed painfully. He was sure he'd never be able to use it again, and was considering chewing it off just to escape the awkward scene.

His stomach gurgled and he bit his lip. God, he had never wanted to pee so badly in his life! With every agonising minute, Dean waited and recalculated his escape. Eventually, he knew she was going to wake up, and then he would have to face the music.

Dean had screwed up.

Of all the women he could sleep with, he had chosen the one that was completely off limits. Not only was Joanna Harvelle the daughter of one of the scariest women Dean had ever known, but she was also one of Heavens current priorities. He would have to be the worst bodyguard known to man. '_I am SO going back to hell!' _

Maybe he was already there.

His stomach moaned painfully again, and he held his breath waiting for Jo to stir. Her fingers twitched on his chest, but her breathing never faltered. After a couple of terrifying seconds, he let himself breath again. Dean wondered, for not the first time, if she was a heavy sleeper. Several times, over the course of the last three hours, Dean had attempted to slide out from under her, only to chicken out and remain trapped. There was no way he could safely remove himself from the bed without rousing her.

He watched her shoulder rise and fall with each breath. She smelt amazing. Vanilla and wildflowers wafted from her hair, and his nose vaguely detected the smell of sex lingering in the air.

The sex had surprised him. While he preferred not to think of himself as a seasoned athlete in the activity, he knew he could boast certain talents when it came to pleasing women. So when she had flipped him onto his back with an air of confidence and a predatory smile, Dean anticipated a couple of small thrusts before it was his turn to take control and show her what a real orgasm was. Instead, he was the one begging for relief while she ground her hips to her own internal beat, and forced him to follow her to a climatic finish that ended with him shouting her name.

He should have known. If Philadelphia had taught him anything, it was that there was more to Joanna Harvelle than meets the eye. He was secretly pleased by the knowledge that she was as much a spitfire in bed, as she was in real life.

Not that, that kind of thinking was helping him right now. Dean condemned his fantasies to the back of his mind, and paid attention to the problems at hand. One; he had to pee before he his bladder burst. Two; if he moved she would wake up. Then she would either hit him for taking advantage of her, or she'd be expecting some kind of declaration of love.

Dean frowned. He was not a declaration-of-love kind of guy. Sure he cared about her, more than he wanted to admit, but he had nothing to offer her. She was Jo and he was… well he was most likely going to be returning to hell for not being able to resist temptation.

There were several reasons why she was off limits. If they were to repeat this morning's activity, it would only complicate things, and Dean's life was complicated enough. One of the strongest reasons being, a dark family history laced with beautiful blondes murdered on ceilings. The inescapable fate was enough to smother any flames of interest in his heart. He refused to condemn her to that fate. His imagination taunted him with an image of Jo plastered to the roof, blood dripping from her abdomen. Dean seriously doubted he could ever be as strong as his father or brother and carry on.

He shoved the image aside, and concentrated on the warm arm draped over his chest and the soft breast pressed against his side. His fingers twitched with the memory of squeezing those same breasts while she moaned his name.

He could almost feel the flames of hell licking at his feet.

Problem three; they were on the run from unknown badass demons and Castiel could appear at any second. Problem four; he hadn't contacted his brother in two days, and he had no doubt in his mind that Sam had already taken off, and left Bobby scrambling for the nearest phone. With Dean's luck, Sam had probably already stumbled upon a world of trouble and was calling for his help. Problem five; he was hungry, which lead back to problems one and two again.

Dean's stomach rumbled.

Dean clenched his butt cheeks together. _No!_ He held his breath and tried to hold in what he knew would be the end of him, and tried to suck the gas back into his stomach. His stomach protested at the restrictions, and moaned in retaliation. He had to hold it! He clenched his butt tighter, praying for the pain in his stomach to cease.

Oh-no....

The sound was as high-pitched, and as embarrassingly prolonged, as he had feared. Dean scrunched his eyes tight, and felt a mixture of horror and relief flood his body as the sheets covering their legs ruffled. Terrified, he held his breath, straining to hear if she had been awoken by his inappropriate body release. When she said nothing, he exhaled quietly.

It was then that he realized her hair was moving. He gazed down at her and realised her head was bobbing slightly. Confused, he craned his neck and felt the tell tale signs of shaking against his chest. Her fingers twitched.

"Aw crap," Dean moaned.

Jo burst out laughing. She rolled off his arm and onto her back, overcome with laughter. Dean couldn't help but chuckle himself while she gasped for breath. When her giggles subsided, she pushed her hair out of her face, rolled onto her side, and grinned at him.

Pins and needles spread rapidly up his arm, whilst blood returned to his limb. He rubbed at his bicep, trying to increase the circulation. "How long have you been awake?" he demanded.

"Since your stomach started playing The Beethoven Symphony." She grinned at him.

"I've been laying here desperate to pee for hours, and you've been awake all this time?" he asked her incredulously.

"Oh! That reminds me… I've been dying to go!" She threw the sheets at him and rolled off the bed.

"No!" Dean leapt off the bed, determined to reach the bathroom first, but she was quicker and slammed the door in his face. Dean howled with frustration and pounded on the door.

"Dammit Jo, I'm dying!"

"Suck it, Dean-o!"

Furious, Dean stomped back to the bedroom. Snatching his boxers from the floor, he slipped them on and headed for the living room. His bladder burned with every step, and he knew he wasn't going to be in a position to hold it any longer. Spotting his boots by the fireplace, he shoved them on without bothering with the laces and raced outside. An icy wind slapped against his exposed arms and legs, and he realised it had snowed while they were asleep.

Beyond caring about a little bit of cold weather, he hurried down the stairs and clomped through the snow. Reaching the trees, he pulled his boxers aside and took care of business.

He groaned with relief and nearly toppled over from the sudden relaxation of muscles. He heard the front door open and ignored her laughter. "You know you're special if a boy can write your name in yellow in the snow."

Dean huffed a laugh and kept his back to her. "Keep dreaming, sweetheart." He called over his shoulder. He heard her giggle and shut the door. Finally finished, Dean ran back to the house.

Stamping snow on the porch, he shoved the door aside and found her relighting the fire. Kicking his boots off at the door, he headed towards the fireplace. He noticed she was wearing his t-shirt. He raised an eyebrow at her, and shoved her to the side so that he could defrost his legs in front of the fire. Slowly his legs began to thaw, and he looked over his shoulder.

She was now sitting on the armchair munching on a chocolate bar. Dean narrowed his eyes on the familiar wrapper. "Where'd you find that?" he demanded suspiciously.

Jo smiled innocently. "Nowhere."

"Hand it over short stuff."

She responded by poking out her tongue, the pink muscle still covered in sticky chocolate. "Didn't your dad ever teach you to share?" she teased playfully.

Dean frowned. "Guns, yes. Beds, sometimes. Chocolate – Never."

"There are six other candy bars hidden in a pair of your gross smelling socks," Jo complained.

"Jo-"

She threw the chocolate bar at him with a theatrical sigh. "Okay, Okay. I thought guys were supposed to be all mellow after sex," she mumbled.

Dean ignored her and shoved the rest of the chocolate bar in his mouth. She looked up at him and he grinned, his teeth covered in chocolate. She rolled her eyes and uncrossed her legs. Dean caught sight of pale flesh and realised she wasn't wearing anything under his shirt. His groin tightened and Dean started to choke.

Jo launched herself to her feet and started hitting his back. Dean spluttered and spat out a piece of saliva and nut encrusted chocolate into his hand. Jo stepped back and he cleared his throat. After a few coughs, he shoved the chocolate back into his mouth. Jo screwed her face up in disgust. "You ok now?" she asked sceptically.

Dean bristled under her concern and his earlier problems flooded back with defining clarity. It was easier to put his priorities in order when her legs weren't tangled between his own. He glared at her. "Are you going to put some clothes on today or are you going to flash the demons to death?"

She frowned at his sudden change in tone. "What's your problem?"

"Nothing," he snapped and ignored the hurt look that crossed her face. He knew he was being cruel, but he saw no other choice. The last thing Dean could do was get involved with her – no matter how great the sex was. He was in charge of protecting her. Shoving all feelings and desire deep down in his chest, he pushed past her coldly. "I'm going to have a shower. Try putting on your own damn clothes and stop stealing mine," he hurled over his shoulder, stalking to the bathroom. He slammed the door behind him. Starting the shower, he tested the water temperature before stepping under the spray.

Yup, he was officially going back to hell, and this time he thought he deserved it.

* * *

Thoughts? Questions? I must stress that just because they *finally* slept together this is not the end of the fic. This is really just the tip of the iceberg! :D

Would love to know what your theories!

Oooh, and I must make a special mentioned to reader called '**B**' -- I have no email or link to reply to you, but I wanted to take the time to let you know that I do appreciate your kind words and support!


	12. Chapter 12

**Rating: **PG

**A/N: **I'm sorry for the long delay, I was out of town & had a funeral and a conference to go to -- But i'm back now and I bring a new chapter! Thank you to everyone for their continued support and hello to new readers. I can't tell you all how much I appreciate your thoughts, opinions and theories. I really hope you all like where the story is going!

* * *

'**My Hero's Had The Heart'**

"Ok Slick - you ready?" Sam held out his taunt arm towards Ruby. He scrunched his face in preparation for the pain that would follow her knife piercing his skin. "Alright, now hold your arm still."

Sam opened his eyes and followed her instructions. Thick crimson blood oozed from the fresh cut and dribbled into the goblet on the motel table. She pushed down on the puckered skin to increase the flow of blood until she was satisfied they had enough blood.

Ruby handed him a towel, which he quickly pressed to his wound, and she removed a small brown bag from her pocket. Pulling the drawstrings open, she tipped the green and yellow herb like contents into the goblet, and swirled the liquid around.

"Now what?" Sam pestered, trying to peer into the goblet. It looked like thick cough syrup.

"Now you zip it so I can concentrate." Lighting a match, Ruby dropped it inside the cup and held the goblet high above her head. She began to mutter a complex chant in a language Sam didn't recognise. He glanced outside; thunder moaned in the distance. The skin on the back of Sam's neck tingled and he felt uncomfortable with the sudden change in atmosphere.

The ingredients inside the goblet ignited, and a small burst of flame licked at the ceiling. Ruby continued to chant until the flame slowly retreated back inside the goblet. Sam glanced around the room. The bedside lamps were flickering and the smell of sulphur invaded the room.

Without warning, the wound on Sam's arm tingled and he pulled back the towel to inspect the damage. The blood had already clotted messily and he was about to touch it when his arm clenched involuntary; pain streaked through his veins.

He cried out and gripped his arm in agony. "Ruby-" he gasped.

Without so much as a glance at Sam, she fell to her knees and tipped the goblets contents over the map of America on the floor. The map instantly started to disintegrate under the liquid. Sam stumbled towards her, hissing in between clenched teeth and clutching at his arm. Most of the map was now a soggy mess on the carpet - but one area towards the bottom of the map, remained pristine.

The pain in his arm receded. Sam inspected his arm warily, but no residual pain remained. He dropped his arm and kneeled down beside Ruby. She smiled at him.

"Did it work?"

"Of course it did," she retorted, sounding annoyed. Her demonic eyes had returned to their normal chocolate brown, but her cheeks were slightly flushed. Sam continued to eye her cautiously until she dragged his attention back to the map. "See? Look there." Slowly, two small patches of white stood out amongst the black gooey mess. Ruby grinned victoriously, and she pointed at the two white circles. One patch distinctly read 'Phoenix', while the other read 'Monticello'.

"That's us," Sam said, touching the area over Phoenix.

"Which means Waldo is in Utah."

"So we weren't that far behind him," Sam mused standing up. Ruby picked up the map and dumped it in the trashcan. "It should only take six or seven hours to get there."

"Hold on there, Sam," Ruby warned. "You can't just rock up and surprise Dean. If he gets so much as a tip off from Castiel, he is going to do the bolt, and that herb I used isn't easy to come by. Try one shot only."

"So what are you suggesting?" Sam challenged, feeling frustrated. He was starting to grow tired of Ruby's lack of support to find his brother. Twice in the last couple of hours, she had tried to convince him to concentrate on perfecting his newfound powers, and let Dean find them. Sam didn't know why, but something in the pit of his stomach demanded that he make Dean his first priority. Something was wrong; something he couldn't name told him that his brother needed his help.

Another darker side, a side he had recently buried under thick layers of guilt when Dean returned from the dead, whispered that time was running out, and he needed to act quickly if he wanted to defeat Lilith.

Ruby interrupted his thoughts by placing a cool hand on his forearm. "All I'm saying is that you should just stop and take stock of what you're getting yourself into here." Her hand slid down until her fingers coiled around his wrist. She dropped down in front of him on the edge of the bed. "There is more to it than just catching up with your brother."

"The girl?" Sam guessed.

Ruby nodded and tugged on his wrist. Sam hesitated for a moment before allowing himself to be pulled down beside her. She smiled at his compliance. "I did some more research last night while you were sleeping."

"And?" Sam asked impatiently. He didn't want to admit to himself how much her cinnamon scented skin called to him, or the lure of the hot blood he could hear pounding inside her heart. He squirmed under her curious gaze, embarrassed by the uncharacteristically dark thoughts invading his mind. It took all of his concentration to shove the temptation aside and focus on his brother's whereabouts.

"This girl… the innocent," Ruby said, eyeing his facial features. Sam wondered for not the first time, if she could read his mind; but she continued speaking. "She's part of an ancient prophecy…a big one. I'm talking end of the world, winner-takes-all, kind of prophecy."

"And?" Sam pressed. He wondered what his brother had to do with the prophecy or why Ruby was starting to resemble a Cheshire cat. "What does it say?"

"You ready for this?" Ruby asked mysteriously, waggling her eyes brows. "The prophecy says…"

***

Jo grunted while wrestling clean sheets onto the mattress. Two days had passed since she and Dean had slept together, and since then, the grumbling Winchester made it more than clear that he regretted what they had done by refusing to meet her curious eyes. Every time she entered his supposed 'space', he would bolt out the door, mumbling about replenishing the firewood.

When night had finally fallen that first night, tension seeped through the house, and Dean announced that she was to sleep in the bedroom and he would sleep by the fire. Jo didn't take too kindly to being relegated to a bedroom because he was too immature to deal with the elephant in the room.

His brutal rejection stung, and despite the hundreds of times she had told herself it didn't matter, she had curled up in bed hugging a pillow to her chest. His scent lingered in the sheets and blankets, and while she wrapped herself in them she couldn't help but wonder if she had been a terrible sexual partner. At the time she thought he had enjoyed himself, but Jo wondered if perhaps he was just humouring her.

Caught up in her own thoughts, she began to dig through the linen closet, until she came across a matching daisy covered top sheet, and a thick white, eyelet blanket. Items in hand, Jo kicked the bedroom door shut with her heel and resumed making the bed.

Things were getting out of control. Jo almost dared to pray for a demon attack. '_How dare he treat me like I have cooties or something,'_ she seethed, whipping the sheet across the bed.

Neither of them had heard a word from anything remotely supernatural – good or evil. Jo knew Dean was becoming antsy. When he was occupied with ignoring her, she studied his movements and noticed that he was starting to resemble a caged tiger. Late at night, when she lay awake frustrated in the large cold bed, she heard him; pacing back and forth along the hallway, stopping outside her closed bedroom door for a minute or two, before stomping back down the hall.

'_I never should have kissed him,' _she thought regrettably. Jo threw the pillows on the bed and bent over to wrestle the heavy blanket on top_._ '_If I had just kept my fantasies to myself, things would be easier.' _

Jo punched the blanket into shape. She'd already spent hours cursing herself and trying to come up with a way to resolve the tension. It was no use, he was determined to avoid her and she was left to suffer the consequences. Jo was grateful her mother couldn't see her now. She could only imagine the 'I-Told-You-So' dance the older women would perform.

At the thought of her tough as nails mother, Jo felt sick. She had spent so much of her youth resisting her mother's concern and trying to be independent, that Jo was beginning to develop regrets. What she wouldn't give to hear her mom's voice, and have her wrap her in a warm hug, and assure her that no boy was good enough for a Harvelle woman anyway.

Jo kicked the dirty sheets into a pile in the corner of the room. Something gold coated glittered from under the bed and she bent down to retrieve the odd looking necklace. She sighed - recognition piercing through her anger.

It belonged to Dean.

Jo was sick of being mad at him, and was tired of waiting for him to man up and apologize for being a dick. He wasn't the only one who was bored and sick of the same stupid cabin walls. Jo missed hunting, missed meeting new people and missed the thrill of a job completed. While she didn't miss the crappy motel rooms, she did miss the comforting blare of the TV and the greasy diner food.

The irony was not lost on her. While she had managed to free herself from the restrictions her mother had placed on her as a teenager, Jo was starting to realise the confinement of a faked death made her childhood look carefree and limitless.

Castiel's warnings still rang in her ears. She had already analysed and replayed every word he had spoken to her, until she knew their vague conversations off by heart. He had warned her that in hindsight death would seem like the easier option, and when faced with the idea of months of hiding in a musty cabin with a bored and irritated Winchester, Jo was starting to feel the truth of the Angels words.

It wasn't the rejection that was fuelling her animosity towards Dean. It was fear. It was not the adrenaline pumping, running for your life fear she was used to; it was instead a slow burn of doubt, worry and anxiety that kept her mouth closed and her eyes narrowed. Experience kept them alert, knowledge forced them to prepare for the worst and fear kept them in a state of resentment. Dean wanted to be with his brother and the open road, and Jo ached for freedom and a goal to work towards.

Thoughts focused, Jo could see that if they continued to let their own stubbornness be their undoing, the demons would have no trouble defeating them. So with determination burning in her lungs, she decided to seek out Dean and make him see reason. She clutched the necklace in her hand, opened the door and stormed purposely down the hallway.

Jo found him in the kitchen slurping the last dregs of a whiskey bottle. Sensing her presence, he quickly put the bottle down and turned his back, pretending to look busy. She folded her arms and waited for him to face her.

He realised quickly that he had boxed himself in the kitchen, and eventually, after much procrastinating, turned around with a forced smile. "Um…" he started and motioned to the liquor cupboard. "Thirsty?"

"You dropped this." She tossed the necklace at him. He caught it against his chest and had the decency to look embarrassed.

"Thanks, I've been looking for it," he admitted, quickly putting it over his head and tucking it under his t-shirt. He motioned to the roaring fire. "I should go and get some more." He edged around her and headed for the door as quickly as he could without actually running.

"Hold it, Winchester."

"I wont be long," he lied, his hand on the door.

Jo sighed and shook her head. "You can't hide out there all night," she reminded him. He hesitated by the door, his back to her, and she pressed him further. "It's probably going to start snowing again soon, and the last thing I need to deal with right now is you being bitchy _and_ sick."

"Well if you want to freeze tonight, that's fine. But I personally-"

"Dean, there is enough wood here to last a week. Grow some balls and stop avoiding me."

Looking slightly bewildered, he finally faced her, the firewood forgotten. "I'm not-"

"Really?" Jo challenged, her eyebrow raised.

Dean grumbled something under his breath, and shoved his hands in his pockets. Jo thought she made out the words, 'chick flick' and 'stab myself'. Frowning, she uncrossed her arms. "Whatever Dean, if you want to be like that - than fine. I just wanted to discuss what we're going to do now, but if you just want to keep avoiding me than fine. I hope you enjoy your fortress of solitude." She turned on her heel and strode down the hallway, disappointed in herself for expecting more from him.

Dropping down on the bed, she buried her face in her hands. He was driving her crazy. "What was Castiel thinking?" she moaned into her hands. '_I should just go,'_ she mused sadly. '_I'd prefer demons on my ass than sitting here hiding for eternity with someone so…' _

"I'm not trying to be difficult you know."

Startled by his voice, Jo spied Dean leaning against the doorframe. The expression on his face was unreadable, but his shoulders sagged slightly and she believed he was making an honest effort to talk to her. "Then what are you trying to do, Dean? Because I just don't understand what you expect from me."

"Nothing," he insisted, the tip of his boot kicking the door frame lightly. His face betrayed his frustration for a split second, but his mask slipped back into a blank expression when he caught her watching him. "It's not-"

"If you say, 'It's not you, it's me', I will stab you in the face." She threatened, shaking a finger at him.

He smirked, nodding. "Okay, I'll give you that one." He pushed himself away from the doorframe only to fall back on it seconds later. "Shit, I don't know Jo. It's complicated."

Jo rolled her eyes. "What isn't when it comes to our lives?" She lay back on the bed, bringing her legs up so her heels could rest against the mattress. The room's temperature dropped a few degrees, and Jo peered out the window. It was snowing. She returned her attention to Dean, trying to catch his eye, but he was now staring at the window. She realised she would have to be the one to reach out and start the communication. "I'm bored too, you know. I'm frustrated, I'm hungry, I'm itching to get back on the road and do _something_ – but we can't. We're stuck in this boring assed cabin waiting for Castiel to wave the checker flag and it's sucks. I hate waiting around and I know you do too. But you know what makes it harder?"

"I'm sure you're about to tell me," Dean quipped, the edges of his mouth twitching with the start of a smile.

"You're being an ass, Dean," she moaned and sat up. He rolled his eyes and turned so his back was against the doorframe.

"Yeah, well… you already knew that."

"I know," Jo admitted. "I'm not trying to bust your balls Dean." He turned to look at her and smirked, his eyebrow raised. "I'm not," she assured him. "You're not the first boy that bailed after he got into my pants, Dean. I'm not a schoolgirl, Ok? I don't expect anything from you. It happened… whatever, lets just move on." She shrugged and fell back on the bed.

After several moments of intense silence, Dean shifted and warily dragged a hand across his stubble-ridden chin. "I'm just trying to protect you, Jo. Things got out of hand and it was my fault-"

"Please," she protested, serving him with a pleading look. "I kissed you remember?"

"Yeah, well semantics…" he mumbled, avoiding her eyes. He stared intently at the doorframe, his hand itching to reach out and tug at the loose splinter on the door. He scratched at his chin again to distract himself. "Jo, the point is, it's better… _safer _for you if I don't-"

"Dean, please," Jo argued. "Please don't make this about protecting me. I swear I'll scream."

Dean frowned at her words. "Then what do you want to make this about?"

"How about the truth?" she challenged. "I don't need you to protect me Dean-" She sat up when she realised he was about to object, and she waved her hands at him. "I know what Castiel said, but he told _me_ that he'd send someone to _help_ me. Don't insult me by treating me like some toddler."

"I'm not," he snapped coming towards her. He stopped in front of her, frustration rolling off his stiff body in waves. "I'm trying to do my _job_. I seriously screwed up before, and I'll admit that I got distracted by all this," he waved his hands up and down his body and she glared at him.

"What is-" She repeated his earlier movements, "all this?"

"You know what I'm talking about." He frowned at her, daring her to interrupt him again. "I'm here to protect you. I can't protect you if we're… you know… distracted. I don't know how long it's going to be before Cas shows up again, and you can bet that when he does it means all hell has broken loose." He started to pace in front of her. "I don't want to fight with you… just… can you just let me do my job? I promise to stop avoiding you if you promise not to be so… distracting-"

"What-"

"I'm a man Jo, I'm not blind. You can't run around all naked and stuff and expect me not to notice." He ignored her when she rolled her eyes. "Let's just concentrate on the job at hand."

"Which is?"

"Preparing ourselves to fight once the pigeon courier arrives."

Jo shook her head, trying to hide her smile. "Please don't call him that, or he'll make us wait here for an eternity," she warned. "Besides, I like him."

"Yeah, I'd figured as much."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she retorted, not sure if she should be offended.

He stopped pacing and smirked. "You seem to have a reputation for being attracted to the things you should stay away from."

Jo gave him a smile and flicked her hair over her shoulder. "S'not my fault. I'm not a vanilla kinda girl - I prefer rocky road."

"Oh, I bet your mom is thrilled by that choice." Jo's smile dropped at the mention of her mom, and she looked down at her lap sadly. She felt, rather then heard, Dean sit beside her. "Sorry. I didn't mean-"

"S'ok," Jo mumbled and peered up at him through her long lashes. "At least she's got Bobby."

Dean scratched the back of his head looking confused. "Yeah – I guess. They're pretty good friends."

Jo's eyes widened and she turned towards him completely. "Wait. You don't know do you?" He raised an eyebrow when her face broke out with a smile. "Bobby and my mom… they're a thing… an item."

"Say what now?" Dean said incredulously.

"I saw 'em making out."

"Gross." Dean shuddered. He grimaced apologetically when he realized she was giving him a stern look. "I mean in a gross, he is like my uncle I don't want to know, kind of way. You're mom's a real… er catch, she um…" he continued to stumble his way through an apology until he noticed she was giggling. "Shut up! You know what I meant."

Jo grinned and shoved his shoulder. "I think it's great," she admitted. "I don't know if I could handle the thought that the two people I loved were alone and suffering. It's good for them to have each other. It's cute."

"If you say so."

"I do. You can't live the bachelor life forever, Dean. One day you too will have to be a grown up and have little Winchesters of your own," she teased.

Dean snorted. "Say's who?" Jo shook her head, smiling, and after a few moments of companionable silence he cleared his throat and stood up. "Ok, is this chick moment done? I'm starving."

She rolled her eyes and nodded. "Yeah, whatever."

"Come on," he urged. "I'll let you have one of my candy bars?"

Jo pretended to consider his proposal and tapped her lips thoughtfully. "Alright, I forgive you for being a dick." A wicked grin flickered across her face. "Just don't do it again."

"Don't start," Dean warned with a playful frown. "I swear, you're gonna be the death of me, woman."

"That's not what you said the other night," she teased, flicking her hair over her shoulder and allowing him to see the reddish love bite he'd left her on her neck. "I distinctly remember you saying-"

"Hey!" He pointed a warning finger at her, but his eyes lingered on her neck. "Watch it."

"Whatcha gonna do if I don't - spank me?" Jo waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"Agh! No candy for you!" He cried and hurried out of the room, her laughter trailing after him.

***

Castiel arrived in the dark bedroom with little more than a slight fluttering of wings. He appraised the couple before him on the bed. Dean lay sprawled on top of the blankets, fully clothed and drooling on his arm. Snoring softly underneath a mound of blankets, Jo occupied the small space beside him.

The Angel walked purposely around the bed until he came to a stop in front of Jo. Slowly he kneeled before her, his eyes glancing apprehensively towards Dean. Castiel turned his hand slowly, and the blankets peeled themselves away from Jo's body.

She stirred slightly, shivering in the cold, and curled into a foetal position. Leaning forward, Castiel pressed two fingers to her forehead, and she instantly straightened and rolled onto her back with a sigh. Dean mumbled something in his sleep, and rolled onto his side facing Castiel.

Impatiently, the Angel waited for Dean to settle. Once he was sure Dean had gone back to sleep, he pulled the sleeves back on his trench coat, and placed his palm gently over the handprint he had embossed Jo's stomach with. A warm yellow light spilled out from underneath his hand. He frowned with concentration, paying close attention to her heartbeat and his surroundings.

Dean murmured something unintelligible in his sleep, his forehead creasing with pain. The light under Castiel's hand flickered as the Angel turned towards the male hunter with concern written on his face. Jo shifted, startling Castiel, and he quickly made his presence invisible. He waited in the shadows of the room, casting nervous glances at the couple and the window. But he needn't have bothered; Jo settled quickly, as did Dean, though Castiel noticed that the two had shifted closer to one another while in the confines of sleep.

Reappearing beside the bed, he knelt by Jo's side again. Resuming his mission, he placed his hand back over her scar. Closing his eyes, the Angel leant closer to the sleeping hunters. The hand print engraved in Jo's stomach turned a metallic silver, and appeared to shimmer in reaction to the light emanating from his outstretched palm.

Castiel took a deep breath, the task clearly draining him of energy. A pure whist mist discharged from his palm, and the Angel slumped forward. The mist hovered over Jo's exposed stomach momentarily, before the pulsating scar absorbed it. Castiel curled his fingers into a fist.

The light dissolved, and a satisfied expression slowly crept across Castiel's face. He withdrew his hand, and stood up. The hand print shaped scar returned to its normal dull scarlet colour. Jo whimpered in her sleep, rolling towards Dean seeking warmth. Scratching absently at her stomach, she curled into Dean's chest, her head nuzzling under his chin.

Roused by her movements, Dean screwed his nose up, his arm moving to drape over her waist. A second later, Dean's eyes slid open, and Castiel disappeared into the night.

Dean raised his head and squinted into the darkness, unsure if what he had seen was a fading figment of his dream or something else. Blinking the sleep away, he studied the room until he was sure there was no sign of the Angel.

He glanced down at Jo. Reaching over, he pulled the blankets over her shivering body. Once the blankets were tucked securely around her, he took a moment to watch her sleep. She mumbled his name in her sleep, and let out a sigh. Dean sat up. With a yawn, he climbed out of bed and went to the windowsill.

With bleary eyes, he checked the salt line to make sure it was still in position. He roamed the rest of the house, double checking charms and adding more salt where the line was thin. Dean tested the lock on the door, and made sure everything was how he had left it before he had fallen asleep talking to Jo.

While checking the window in the kitchen, he recalled the events that led to him falling asleep beside her. Originally, while she slept in the bedroom, he had sat by the fire cleaning his weapons happily -- until she had screamed bloody murder. He bolted to the bedroom, gun ready to blast a demon to hell, and found her in the middle of the bed, pointing at her pillow. When Dean finally stopped laughing, he bravely rescued her from a terrified spider the size of his fist. She admitted with flaming red cheeks, that her biggest fear were spiders, and he tried to comfort her by telling her that Sam's biggest fear were clowns. After that confession, hours passed in a blur as they traded stories of their past, their favourite songs, and their favourite hunts.

Dean realised it was somewhere in between telling Jo about the day his dad had given him the keys to the Impala, to the first ghost he'd ever seen, that he had told Jo more about his life than he'd shared with anyone apart from Sam. The realisation had caught him by surprise, and he might have made an excuse to leave the room if Jo hadn't decided to share her favourite 'Three Vampires walk into a bar…' joke. He'd been too busy laughing and sharing his own joke to remember why he wanted to leave in the first place.

His late night patrol completed, Dean glanced at the armchair. It looked cold and uninviting. Two nights of sleeping on the floor had left him with a stiff back and a petulant mood. He acknowledged that sleeping in a bed was preferable to sleeping in an armchair, and that sleeping _beside_ Jo was not the same as sleeping _with_ Jo. Yawning, he picked up his rifle and headed back to the bedroom.

Laying the gun down beside the bed, he laid back down on top of the blankets. He glanced drowsily over at Jo who had curled up into a ball during his absence. With a tender smile, he closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

***

Bobby closed the door to Ellen's room gently behind him. With a heavy sigh, he headed downstairs with a depressed frown imbedded in his features. Entering the barroom, Ernie glanced up from handing a customer a beer, and raised his eyebrows expectantly. "Any change?"

"None," Bobby said glumly, sitting down on one of the barstools. "She still isn't talking."

"At least you got her out of that damn bed and eating something," Louie replied, placing his empty beer mug on the counter. "I thought for sure she had turned to stone."

"Shut up, Lou," Ernie scolded with an irritated frown. He placed a fresh beer in front of Bobby.

"You shut up."

"Will the two of you quit it for two freakin' minutes?" Bobby snapped. "Honestly." He was about to take a sip of his beer, when he spied a brown haired man in a tan trench coat staring at him beside the front door. "I'll be right back."

Ernie and Louie shared a concerned glance, and turned to watch Bobby lumber towards the man by the door and usher him outside.

Once they were far enough away from the Roadhouse, Bobby spoke to the poker faced Angel. "You've got some nerve showing up here, Castiel."

"I require your assistance."

"Yeah? You and what army?" Bobby barked. "Dean may owe you his life - but I owe you nothing."

"She needs you."

"Ellen?" Bobby responded with a frown. He glared at the Angel in front of him. "What do you think I'm doing here?"

"Not the matriarch - the daughter," Castiel corrected firmly.

Bobby's eyes narrowed. He ignored one of the patrons exiting the roadhouse. The customer eyed the two men with a suspicious frown. It wasn't until the he climbed into his utility truck and drove away, that Bobby started talking again. "Some Angel you are," he hissed, aware that if he spoke too loudly he would draw unnecessary attention from Ernie and Louie. "The _'daughter'_ is dead. Don't you guys keep track of who's coming and going anymore?"

"She is not dead."

Bobby glared at him. "Don't you dare play games with me, boy. Angel or not, I will shoot you."

Castiel looked unconcerned by the threat, and started walking towards Bobby's car. The older hunter followed him, a growl forming in his mouth. When they reached the car, the Angel spoke. "Her death was a plot to keep the demons from knowing my true purpose."

"Really? Well isn't that just dandy for you."

Castiel tilted his head to the side looking curious. "You do not believe me?"

"Why should I?" Bobby challenged. "If she's alive she'd be home with her mama right now, not buried six feet under in that graveyard over there." He pointed to the iron fence beside the roadhouse. His eyes threatened violence.

"You are angry."

"I'll have you know I'm about an inch from planting my foot in your holy superior ass!" Bobby spat. "The shit you've put those boys through and now you want me to believe that Jo's not dead? There is a woman in there who is mourning the death of her only child. Her heart is broken. If you're trying to tell me that it was all for kicks, then you better start flapping them damn wings of yours before I pluck them off like some barn yard chicken!"

"It was necessary for-"

"I've heard enough of your preacher crap," Bobby snapped and stormed back to the roadhouse. "Go fight your own damn war you lazy son of a-"

Castiel appeared in font of the hunter in a flash. Bobby stumbled, frowning up at the man who seemed to tower over him. "In the coming days we will require your assistance."

"What do I look like - a damn fool? Harass someone else."

"I appear to have misjudged you Robert Singer," Castiel responded gravely looking Bobby in the eye. "I was under the impression Joanna was like the daughter your previous wife never managed to carry full term."

Without warning Bobby swung his fist. Castiel's head snapped backwards with a crack. Bobby glowered at him. The Angel slowly lowered his head back down, his expression emotionless. Bobby nursed his stinging fist with his other hand.

"You're a son of bitch you know that?" Bobby shouted, trying to ignore the pain in his fist. "You know I would have moved Heaven and earth for that girl."

"Then I suggest you do as I say and gather your things."

"Why should I believe a word you say?" Bobby challenged. "You can't expect me to fall in line like a good solider! Yank some other poor sucker outta hell. I don't take orders from anybody."

The Angel squared his shoulders and eyeballed him. Bobby didn't dare lower his eyes. Eventually the Angel's expression softened. "If you are referring to Dean, he is with Joanna as we speak."

"What?" Bobby croaked, his eyes wild. "You better be joking."

"I have no desire to use humour to enlighten you."

"She's really alive?"

"As I have said. She will be the one who will require your assistance."

Bobby stared at him suspiciously. "W-Where are they?"

"I believe Fort Collins would be a good place to start." Castiel turned on his heels, his trench coat swaying. Inside the roadhouse a glass smashed and Bobby turned around distracted. When he glanced back at the Angel he was nowhere to be seen.

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So... thoughts? Questions? Comments? :D


	13. Chapter 13

**Rating: **PG

**A/N: **This is probably one of my fav chapters, I hope you all like it. A big thanks to all those who have reviewed - the feedback has been overwhelming and I really appreciate all your different thoughts and theories. I'd also like to mention Hannah and Dora for beta and guidance. Thanks guys for letting me harass you with new ideas and pages upon pages of changes. LOL.

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'**Twisted'**

Jo awoke from a deep sleep feeling exhausted and shaky. With a moan, she opened her eyes and was shocked to discover that it was so late in the day. Sitting up in bed, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and licked her chapped lips. After a few moments her eyes adjusted to the sunlight, and she threw the blankets aside, and climbed out of bed.

The room slanted to a hard left. Jo quickly sat back down while a wave of dizziness flushed through her. Raising a hand to her forehead, she realised she was running a slight temperature. The pain in the back of her head sharpened, and she closed her eyes, trying to ride out the vertigo.

In the kitchen Dean swore loudly. The sound of tin cans clinking on the ground encouraged her to open her eyes, and she pushed herself to stand. Once she was sure the dizziness would remain at bay, she headed to the bathroom.

The shower was blissfully hot and did wonders for her aching body. She relished in the warmth, ducking her head under the water and allowing the steady stream to ease the headache to a dull thump. She never wanted the shower to end.

Regrettably, ten minutes later, she turned the taps off and climbed out of the shower. Wrapping a towel around her body, she started to dry herself, finally becoming aware of how tender her skin felt. She caught a glimpse of her slightly bloated stomach in the small bathroom mirror. The red handprint was now a deep purple and blue colour; almost vein like. Curious, she pressed the scar gently and it responded the way a normal bruise would.

The muscles in the pit of her stomach cramped painfully and she ran a soothing hand over her stomach to ease the pain. Counting the days back in her head, Jo realised she was due any day now for her period. She compared the pain in her lower back and the tightness of her breasts, and chalked up the dizziness to mean she was due for a heavy flow. Jo frowned – it was the last thing she needed to deal with right now.

A quick glance in the bathroom cabinet revealed no feminine hygiene products, and she knew she had no choice but to convince Dean that they needed to go to the nearest town for supplies. She dreaded the conversation. Jo doubted Dean had ever been with a girl long enough to suffer through the joys of the female reproductive cycle.

Sighing, Jo redressed in her black tank top and sweatpants, and tied her damp hair in a loose bun. She entered the main room to find Dean sitting on the kitchen floor, surrounded by several open tins of fruit, and a bent knife. "Decided to grace the world with your presence did you?" he teased playfully, standing up and placing the tins on the counter. He wiped uselessly at the dribbles of syrup on his jeans.

Jo smiled while testing the clothes hanging up to dry by the fireplace. Her jeans were still damp, but her shirt and underwear were crispy dry. She plucked them from the chair that was acting as a makeshift clothesline, and entered the kitchen.

Dean offered her a bent fork and a can of peaches. Jo screwed her nose up and sniffed the tin. "Smells funky," she complained. She pulled her head back and placed the tin down. "Anything else?" She glanced hopefully at the array of tins.

"Sorry this isn't the Hilton– Whoa, are you ok?"

Jo looked up, confused by the concern in his voice. Several black dots invaded her vision, and she blinked repeatedly to clear them. The world started to spin, and Dean's worried expression began to slant to the left. She tried to reach out, and grip the counter for support when her knees started to give out.

Dean raced to her side, and barely caught the back of her head, before it hit the side of the armchair. "Jo!" Dean shouted, cradling her head. The floor was icy cold beneath her, and he gently scooped her up, and took her to the bedroom.

Depositing her on the bed gently, he brought a hand to her forehead and swore in reaction to the temperature. "Jesus Jo, you're burning up." Her eyes lids fluttered weakly in response, and she looked up at him with unfocused eyes. "Jo, talk to me. What's wrong?"

"Don't feel so good," she moaned, raising a shaking hand to her head. "My head is… killing me."

"Hang on." Dean ran off to the bathroom and turned on the faucet. He yanked the washcloth from the shower, and ran it under the cold water. Squeezing it tightly, he turned off the facet, and came back into the bedroom to place the cloth gently on her forehead.

She hissed in reaction to the cold cloth, and tried to squirm away. Closing her eyes, she tried to concentrate on taking deep breaths. When her stomach muscles began to clench in pain, she held her breath, and waited for the bed to stop feeling like it was rocking back and forth.

Jo's eyes snapped open.

"Gonna be sick," she mumbled and started to roll onto her side. Dean moved to help her to her feet when she suddenly clamped a hand over her mouth. She attempted to push him away feebly, but it was too late; warm liquid sprayed over Dean's lap.

He grimaced, turning his head away from the smell and half dragged, half carried her to the bathroom. Her stomach tightened, and she pushed him aside so she could collapse by the toilet. A moment later she began to gag nosily as she threw up.

When the heaving appeared particularly painful, Dean ran a warm hand up and down her bony back and pulled stray sticky pieces of hair away from her face.

"I'm sorry," she gasped, clinging to the toilet seat, her face hidden behind her forearm. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Hey," he said gently, handing her a wad of toilet paper. She wiped her mouth humiliated, and refused to meet his gaze. "What's a bit of spew between friends?"

"I never get sick," she swore. "I don't know what's wrong with me." Jo reached up and shakily flushed the toilet, her red cheeks in stark contrast to her pale face.

Dean shrugged. "Maybe it was something you ate? We haven't exactly been eating well the last-" He cut himself off when she closed her eyes. "Never mind. Are you going to be alright to sit here while I find you something clean to wear?"

Jo opened her eyes, and looked down at her soiled clothes horrified. She squirmed with embarrassment, and hid her face in her hands. "Yeah," she whispered pathetically. "I'm so sorry, Dean."

"No sweat off my back," he promised her. "Seriously, just take it easy, Ok? I'm going to leave the door open so if you feel dizzy again just call out." Jo started to nod, but the motion caused the vertigo to return and she closed her eyes.

"K," she whispered. She heard him peel off his putrid jeans and toss them in a pile towards the door. Jo opened her eyes in time to see him pick up a towel from the rack, and leave the bathroom to assess the damage.

Another wave of nausea captured her attention and she turned back to the toilet in preparation. She moaned, feeling depressed, and rested her forehead on her arms. She had never been so embarrassed in her whole life. '_Oh God, kill me now.'_

***

"My brother, what are you doing?"

Castiel looked up aghast to see his heavenly sister, Cadmiel, step out from behind the crumbling pyramid wall. He quickly looked away, afraid that his face would betray his deepest secrets, and turned to feel the heat of the morning sun. He spoke only when he was sure his emotionless mask was back in place. "I have been attending to some business."

"Business, Castiel?" she questioned, taking a step towards him. "Is that what you call your meddling these days?" Her porcelain like face portrayed sternness, but her blue eyes foretold the concern for his actions. Castiel lowered his eyes towards the carpet of sand surrounding the great pyramid. "What is your _business_ in Giza?"

"I am not at liberty to say."

"You're a fool if you think I have not noticed you flittering from continent to continent." Castiel did not need to look at her to know that she was unimpressed by his vague response. "Never staying long enough in one position to draw attention to yourself. It's a curious game you are playing - I might have missed the signs if you hadn't revealed your Grace in Monticello."

Castiel raised his head and focused on the horizon. He refused to let her words sway his objective. A hot wind blew past the pyramid and ruffled his trench coat. The distraction allowed him to formulate an answer that would not reveal his true purpose. "There is great importance in what I am doing, Cadmiel."

She smiled unkindly, her brilliant white teeth scraping over the tiny pink lips of her vessel. She looked as equally out of place in the hot sun as he did, dressed in a fitted cream business suit and black raincoat. "Uriel is concerned that you have been swayed by these humans… that you've become blinded."

"Uriel?!" Castiel hissed angrily, turning towards her. "He's the one who has-" He paused, struggling to regain his composure. His sister touched his arm gently, and knew he was acting erratically. If the others in the Garrison saw his behaviour he would be sent to the superiors for questioning.

Cadmiel let her hand slide from his arm, and lowered her voice. "My brother, you are not acting like yourself." Her eyes begged him to understand the significance of her words. "I have heard the rumours and I too fear there is mutiny assembling amongst the Garrison. However, be that as it may, you of all Angels know I cannot allow you to continually interfere in the humans destiny without repercussions."

He nodded solemnly. "I know sister, I know." He turned his head away, and remained silent for several moments while she waited beside him patiently. "I do not undertake such forbidden activities lightly, Cadmiel. I have been given orders to follow. If you wish to raise the matter with our superiors you will be notified that I am under strict instructions to continue my work as I see fit."

"If the work you are referring to is the prophecy Castiel-"

"Shush!" He glared at her, his ears alert. The normally comforting whispers in his head from other Angels were suspiciously silent. It was as if the Angels were holding their collective breath. "How do you know about the prophecy?"

"I have been around a lot longer than you, brother. I was stationed in Jerusalem when the prophecy first came to light." She narrowed her eyes at him. "But it is not time yet, Castiel. You are a thousand years too early! If you persist, you are enduring a fools quest-"

"Regardless of the outcome, I have my orders to follow," he instructed her and turned away. He prepared himself to take flight, when she placed an icy hand on his shoulder.

"I have my own orders to follow. What you are doing Castiel, it is forbidden for a reason. No Angel shall have a direct influence in a human's procreation unless instructed by God himself. It is not our place to perceive his will. You are messing with the true order of things – it is unnatural and extremely dangerous for a human if you keep accelerating the development of the foetus."

"And if I am under the orders of our Father?" When Cadmiel did not answer he turned around. Her face was torn between horror and wonder.

"If what you say is true - why have I not been given further instruction from our superiors?" She frowned at him. "You know I am sworn by my duty to make sure the humans achieve their destiny, and I have noticed in the passing months, that you have repeatedly manipulated Dean's destiny." She glared at him. "It has been increasingly difficult to keep him from being swayed." She paused, her eyes searching his face for understanding. "I am no fool Castiel, Dean and Joanna's destiny are becomingly increasingly entwined – it will be a rocky and desperate path if your mission does not come to fruition."

"There is cause for the changes in their destiny." He placed a hand on her cheek and leant forward. "Have you not foreseen the true nature of the third destiny entwined between theirs? Are you blind to the potential? You say that the prophecy is too early, but can you deny the direct correlation to the text? Look closer Cadmiel, do you not see what the child will become?"

She shook her head; her blonde curls brushing his forehead. "No, brother. There is a reason this kind of manipulation is prohibited. Placing a small piece of your Grace inside a human – it's unthinkable. There is too much risk. There is a reason nature has to follow it's course. If something were to happen to her or the child… Dean would-"

"I promise you my sister, in time it will all become clear. If you continue to struggle with doubt than I suggest you pray for clarity and understanding."

"Castiel, this is _wrong_," she pleaded. "No one has heard of your mission or been given confirmation that the prophecy has started to take shape. You are enduring separation and distrust from your brothers and sisters for nothing! Return with me, Castiel. We can undo-"

"Have faith my sister," he assured her, slowly stepping away from her. He turned ready to depart again when she called out.

"The other Winchester, Sam, he is walking a fine line," Cadmiel told him quietly. He paused, and slowly turned around. She narrowed her eyes at him, and the seriousness in her face told him volumes. "Have you forgotten about his destiny? I beg you to cease your activities! If you tilt the balance too much in one brothers favour, the other will fall."

"I have no choice. Sacrifices must be made."

"Careful brother, you are starting to sound like _him._" Castiel's features hardened. He turned away from her to hide his anger. "Lucifer started this way," she reminded him. "I would hate to see you end the same."

"I'm nothing like him - Lucifer betrayed us all!" he retorted hotly. "I am under orders, Cadmiel. I am not deceiving our Father. Perhaps it is _you _that needs to re-evaluate your true allegiance." Castiel lifted his head and straightened his shoulders superiorly. "What I am doing is just. I do not question our Father's commands."

Cadmiel pursed her lips and crossed her arms. "If you do not cease your activities then there is nothing I can do to help you," she warned bitterly. "So heed my warning Castiel – In the coming days if your soul should go to the left; do not go to the right."

"I will keep that in mind," Castiel sneered and departed. Lightning thundered overhead and Cadmiel glanced up at the cloudless sky.

"Well that was a waste of time." Lilith spoke up from behind the petite Angel. Cadmiel turned to face the blonde haired demon with a resentful frown.

"I told you he would not be too forth coming. Castiel has always played things close to his chest."

Lilith placed her hands on her hips and surveyed their sandy surroundings with a disinterested look. "So what's the score? Do we know if the prophecy has kicked off yet?"

Cadmiel shook her head. "I have nothing substantial to report. However it appears Castiel is going to great lengths to mislead us. But we are positive that he is setting things in motion." She paused, mulling over the conversation in her head. She could hear the other Angels probing each others mind for answers as to why Castiel was behaving so suspiciously, and why he had put up walls in his mind.

"Great, so we've got a paranoid Angel on the loose, a prophesied set of demon hunting parents in hiding, and a so called 'all seeing' God on a cigarette break." Lilith summarised throwing her hands up in the air. "That's just fabulous. How am I supposed to tell my boss that his big party plans will have to be put on hold because _you_ can't be bothered to get your hands dirty?"

The Angel glared at the demon, her shoulders hunched with hostility. "As I have said repeatedly – no one knows the exact details of the prophecy except God himself. The text we do have is vague at best, and so long as Castiel remains tight lipped I can not confirm anything."

"Then why am I bothering to keep you alive?" Lilith replied critically. "You are supposed to be the Angel of Destiny - you're supposed to be able to foresee the future!" Lilith snapped viciously. "You know what? I'm sick of doing all the grunt work around here. Tell your brother Uriel, that if he doesn't pull his finger out and bring me that damn prophesised child then all bets are off."

"We are doing the best we can-"

"Bullshit! We aren't playing little league here; this is an apocalypse we're dealing with. That hybrid child is essential to Lucifers resurrection. If Castiel gets his hands on it first than you can kiss your ass goodbye!"

"What if Castiel is wrong? What if the child just ends up being a regular human and not the saviour of mankind?"

Lilith laughed. "You're kidding me right? You should know better than anyone that another Winchester, even without full control over its Angel powers, is going to make life difficult for everyone. I'm having a hard enough time trying to sway Sam to our side."

"I did warn Azazel that the youngest Winchester would have more inner strength than he gave him credit for."

Lilith took a menacing step towards the Angel, and delighted in the fact that Cadmiel took a wary step backwards. "You seem almost glad that he resists us so much," she accused. "It sounds to me that you're having trouble remembering what team you're playing on, Cadmiel."

"You do not frighten me, Lilith."

Lilith's red lips curved into a conceited smile. "You sure about that?" She challenged. "Regardless of your loyalties, you make sure you tell your siblings that they better do what ever they have to in order to deliver me that child. I don't care if you have to pry it from Dean's cold dead-"

"Hush!" Cadmiel interrupted, her head tilted toward the sky. "My superiors - they are curious to my absence. I need to leave immediately."

Lilith rolled her eyes annoyed. "Aw, cute. You're still scared that Daddy's going to catch you sneaking out and ground you," Lilith teased. "It's so…" she narrowed her eyes and grinned smugly. "Mortal."

Cadmiel glowered at the demon, and turned on her heel, and disappeared with a ruffling of feathers.

***

"I still think this is a bad idea."

Jo rolled her eyes and slipped her shoes on. "I'm fine now, see?" She stood up, twirling slightly to demonstrate the absence of vertigo. "Let's go. I'm starving."

"Jo, it's only been a couple of days," Dean cautioned. Two hours after Jo had been sick, the colour returned to her face and she had spent most of the day pestering Dean about sneaking into town to stock up on supplies. Dean still wasn't convinced. Despite his own desire to leave the cabin, if only for a couple of hours, he knew going in to town would be risky. "What about tomorrow?"

"Dean, I'm starving!" Jo complained and pouted. Dean rolled his eyes. "Please?" she begged, batting her eyelids at him.

"We're vulnerable to attack out there," Dean tried to reason with her. "The whole point of 'being in hiding' is the 'hiding' part."

"I know," she acknowledged with a sigh. "But it's been quiet for almost a week. We haven't heard a thing. Do you really think Castiel wants us to starve to death?"

"There's still a couple of cans-"

"I'd rather eat dirt than anymore canned food. You know, Bobby was right – after a couple of days on tin food I really could kill a man for a brownie."

"You're so overdramatic," Dean said with a shake of his head. "You're nearly as bad as Sam."

Jo's eyes lit up and Dean was instantly suspicious as to her change in attitude. A sympathetic smile crossed her features. "You still haven't talked to Sam have you?"

Dean frowned, turning away from her to rummage through the weapons bag on the table. "You know I haven't," he snapped defensively.

"Well, if we go to town there will be reception, and you can call him. You can tell him you're Ok, and make sure he's not in any trouble."

Dean raised his eyes to the ceiling and frowned. He wasn't an idiot. He knew exactly what she was doing. She was playing on his weakness -- his concern for his little brother. "Jo-" he started.

"Yes! Let's go, Dean-o."

"I didn't say we could go!" Dean protested pathetically. He pointed a warning finger at her. "Stop trying to manipulate me."

"I'm not." She smiled at him innocently. "But just think about it. Beer, pizza, a big, juicy, delicious, mouth-watering hamburger with a side of French fries-"

"Stop," Dean moaned, his stomach rumbling at the mere mention of his favourite foods. "Remember how we talked about you letting me do my job? Remember that? Remember how you said you'd be good and behave?"

"I vaguely recall you mentioning something about that… mmm I think I'd sell my soul for some pie right now."

Dean glared. "Don't even joke."

"Com on… Don't you just love the way warm apple pie melts in your mouth and the whipped cream-"

"La La La – not listening." Dean covered his ears with his hands and continued to babble while she described his favourite desert. When he noticed her mouth had stopped moving, he let his hands drop and served her with an irritated frown. "You are grating on my last nerve."

"Please, Dean? Please?" She begged grabbing his arm and bouncing up and down. "Please? I promise I will sit in the car and behave and keep a low profile while we get supplies. Just please, we _need_ to go to town."

"Jo-"

"Please?"

Dean groaned and removed her hands gently from his arms and placed them by her side. "Jo, we can't." He turned away, trying to escape the pleading chocolate brown eyes.

"Come on! We'll be like ninja's." She made a series of karate like movements and grinned at him hopefully. "We'll be in and out."

Dean smirked. "That's what she said."

She ignored his joke and refused to be distracted. Dean sighed. He knew he was close to giving in. "Alright, here's the truth. I didn't want to bring it up before because you'd freak, but I _need_ supplies."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. Geez, chicks and chocolate. You're as bad as a junkie looking for his next hit." When he noticed her giving him a meaningful stare he raised a confused eyebrow. "What?"

"I _need _supplies," she repeated sternly.

"What supplies?" he asked, still unsure as to why she was suddenly giving him such a serious look. "Stuff for nausea? I thought you said it was out of your system now?"

Jo raised an exasperated hand to her forehead, and he heard her mumble something that sounded suspiciously like 'idiot' under her breath. "Dean," she started, narrowing her eyes at him. "I need 'female' supplies."

"Like what?" he said blankly.

"Tampons you dumbass! I'm going to need tampons. I swear to-" she paused and crossed her arms. "Would you prefer I bleed all over the floor?"

"I'll get the keys," Dean mumbled, and tripped over his own feet in his haste to grab them from the kitchen. "You could have just said that from the start," he hissed at her when he found the keys. "You didn't have to go and be all gross about it." With a pointed look, he picked up his gun and a few weapon's and followed her outside.

"I was trying to be subtle," Jo argued.

"Yeah, well if we get killed because of this, I'm telling Cass that the bodyguard manual didn't say anything about monthly cycles," Dean shuddered.

"Fair enough."

***

"This is Sam. Leave a message."

"It's me again… are you too busy painting your nails to pick up the damn phone?" Dean cursed, stumbling over a fallen tree, and continued to hike up the side of the hill. His flashlight failed to cast enough light to give him any real direction in the thick pine forest, but he persistently carried on walking blindly.

At the bottom of the hill, he had left Jo sitting in the car armed with a 9mm Glock, and strict instructions to honk the car's horn if she noticed anything strange. She seemed content enough to work her way through her second slice of apple pie, while he searched the area for reception.

The cell phone pressed to his ear crackled loudly, and Dean stopped moving. He held the phone up in the air, and brought it back to his ear when he saw the bars of reception increase. "The one time I need you to answer your damn phone and your MIA! Listen Sam - I'm just letting you know I'm Ok. So don't be a dumbass, and try to track me down. Stay out of trouble, you hear me? Things are pretty quiet but.. aw dammit.. stupid piece of crap!"

His cell phone blinked pathetically at him. He'd lost reception again. Dean switched it off. It was useless. He had been trying to call his brother all evening, and had only managed to speak to his message bank. Concern filled his mind, and he tried his best not to dwell on all the kinds of trouble his brother could have found himself in.

Finally giving up, Dean tucked his phone in his pocket, and made his way back down the hill. He was tired from being on constant alert while they were in town, and was actually looking forward to curling up in bed when they got back to the cabin.

Jo continued to shock him. After being forced to share such small quarters with her, Dean had expected that her constant presence and stubborn determination to follow her own rules would drive him insane. Instead at the end of each day he found himself uncharacteristically relaxed and dare he say it..._charmed_ by her wit and gun-ho attitude for everything. He'd never admit it to anyone, but he was actually relishing her company.

His mind drifted back to the trip to town. After loading the car with groceries, Dean turned to see Jo emerge from a diner laden with all of his favourite foods, and a mega watt smile. Dean quickly made the decision to leave town, and they stopped to eat Jo's purchases at a scenic outlook an hour away from the cabin.

It was halfway through consuming his burger that Jo pulled out a newspaper, and started to comb through it. Bored, Dean had tried to steal the comic section from her when she suddenly produced an auto magazine with a special 'topless bikini models' sealed section from a brown paper bag, and tossed it at him.

Dean had caught the magazine stunned, and fought the urge to kiss her, while she resumed reading her paper. In the end he gave her half his apple pie, and happily poured through the magazine beside her.

Lost in his thoughts, it wasn't until Dean was halfway down the hill that his nose picked up the slight traces of sulphur in the air. Immediately, he pulled out his favourite 1911 Colt, and proceeded to traverse down the hill, his eyes scanning his surroundings suspiciously.

A deer, startled by his loud footsteps, thundered past the trees closest to him. Heart pounding, Dean realised with a sick feeling that he was being watched. He scanned the darkness warily, gun pointed in front of him. His head screamed at him that he needed to get back to Jo.

"Lost your way, handsome?" Dean slid to a stop and spotted a tall red headed woman leaning against a tree two feet away from him. Dressed in a park ranger uniform, she straightened, and jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "Didn't your mommy ever tell you not to venture outside when the streetlights came on?" she asked in a singsong voice. Her eyes flickered black. "Oh, my mistake. You don't have a mommy anymore."

"Will you hurry up and try to kill me already? I have stuff to do." Dean deliberately shinned the flashlight directly into her eyes, temporarily blinding the demon.

"I didn't come here to kill you." The demon materialized to his left, and he turned and fired. The shot pierced the air uselessly, and the bullet chipped a chunk of bark off the tree. Dean quickly adjusted his position to the right in case she tried to sneak up on him.

"Come on bitch, I don't have all night," he growled into the darkness. In the distance leaves crunched. Dean ignored the sound, knowing it was only an animal. He let his senses guide him toward a cold breeze to his left. He turned, and spotted the red headed demon.

"I have a message from Lilith."

"Well tell your skanky boss to get with the times and call me like everybody else," Dean replied lifting his gun. "Ever hear that expression – shoot the messenger?"

"You mean; 'Don't shoot the messenger'?"

Dean shrugged. "I like my version better."

"Wait." The demon raised her hands in defence. "Lilith wants to cut a deal."

Dean glared. "Really? Well been there done that, got the keyring." His finger hovered over the gun's trigger. "Tell your boss I don't give a rat's ass what she wants - she can stick her deal up her-" Dean was cut off mid sentence when a cool hand rested on his shoulder.

"Cover your ears and look away, Dean." Castiel commanded him, stepping towards the demon. Dean opened his mouth to respond until he caught sight of the enraged expression on the demon's face. He quickly mashed his fingers into his ears, and shut his eyes tightly.

A high-pitched frequency burst through the clearing. Dean dropped to his knees and bent his head, trying to protect his ears. After a few painful minutes the forest descended back into darkness.

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Thoughts? Opinions? Threats of violence?


	14. Chapter 14

**Rating:** M (language, violence)

**A/N:** Big thanks to Hannah (she kicks total ass as a beta!), and to Dora (love your thoughts!) and to **everyone** who has reviewed and encouraged me (Thanks to Jaby whose thoughts kept me focused, and to 'B' who continues to spoil me with praise - thank you!) :D

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'**Seven Nation Army'**

"Ah, that's better."

Jo licked her sticky fingers clean, and brushed the remaining crumbs of pie from her shirt. Leaning forward, she deposited the plastic container in a plastic bag, and finished the last dregs of Dean's chocolate milkshake. Grinning happily, she put the plastic bag in the backseat, and released a content sigh.

Her stomach, swollen from having eaten so much food, protested against her jeans, and she pushed the waistband down until she felt comfortable. Jo gazed down at the sleepy town below. The scenic overlook they had stopped at was nicer than any of the ones she'd seen as a teenager – not that scenery had been an important factor when she was trying to loose her virginity in the back of a mini van with a boy who went by the name of 'Chad'.

Smiling sleepily at the twinkling lights, she waited patiently for Dean to return to the car. Jo wondered if he had finally managed to get a hold of Sam. Despite wanting nothing to do with the younger Winchester personally, she understood and supported Dean's desire to keep his brother out of trouble. While they had not spoken about Jo's limited interaction with his brother, she was curious as to whether Dean was aware of his sibling's extra curricular activities. Not that she would be the one to tell Dean about what she had seen in that abandoned house before she died – it wasn't her place – but by the angry snarl that itched at Dean's lips when ever she mentioned Ruby's name, Jo had no doubt Dean was more than aware of Sam's continued disobedience.

Propping a hand under her head, she hummed softly to herself while staring out at the sky through the windshield. Her eyes began to droop sleepily, and Jo relaxed into the leather seats lulled by the scent of apple pie and Dean's cologne.

A gunshot pierced the peaceful night air, and Jo snapped to attention. In one swift move, she had the glove box open, and she grabbed the weapon Dean had left her with. Peering out the window, she listened intently. A movement in the trees behind the car caught her attention; she took the safety lock off the 9mm Glock.

"Jo-" Dean staggered out of the thick forest lining the car park, and stumbled towards the car, clutching his blood stained chest. Jo cried out in surprise, hopping out of the car in a matter of seconds. He reached out for her, his eyes wide and panicked. "Jo, no-" His knees gave out and he fell harshly to the ground.

"Dean! Dean? What happened?" she demanded, while racing to his side. She dropped the gun clumsily to take his head in her hands. He turned his head towards her, and placed a bloody hand to her face. He reeked of sulphur.

"Run…" he moaned, blood spilling out of the corner of his mouth. He coughed, blood slapping against her panic stricken face. His hand fell back onto his chest.

Fingers shaking, heart pounding, Jo tilted his face slightly to the side to avoid him choking on his own fluids. He moaned in agony, his eyes closing briefly. "Dean? Oh my God, wha-" Jo was at a loss as to how to help him. _'Stop the bleeding!'_ the practical side of her brain screamed.

She gently lowered his head to the ground, and struggled to yank off her button down shirt quickly. Pressing the material to the gaping wound in his chest, she gasped when the shirt was soaked in seconds. His eyes started to roll to the back of his head, and more blood rolled sluggishly from his nose.

"Dean? Dean stay with me," she begged, trying to stop him from closing his eyes. His eyes flickered briefly, and she could see he was fighting to stay awake. "Dean, come on. Please don't go to sleep… stay with me. Please?"

"Need to… get out…" he coughed again, his fingers twitching with pain. Jo felt something warm and sticky seep into her jeans, and she realised with horror that he was bleeding out. "Leave me," he begged.

Jo shook her head, tears starting to prickle her eyes. He was so pale and his eyes were fluttering again. Holding back a sob, Jo swallowed her tears and forced herself to focus. "No, Dean. Come on - we've got to get you to a hospital." Holding the soaked shirt to his chest, she struggled to be careful and pull him to his feet. He moaned in pain, but there was no way she was going to leave him in the dirt to die. "I'm sorry, I can't leave you," she told him, trying to worm her arms under his back.

He moaned and shook his head. "No… go… not safe."

"Dammit Dean," Jo swore, her hands struggling to maintain a grip with all the blood sliding under her fingers._ 'If I can just get him to the car, then he has a chance of making it,_' she told herself, determination outweighing the fear in her bones. "I'm not leaving you. Come on!" She managed to get him to his knees, and used every ounce of strength she possessed to pull him heavily to his feet. He leant against her, nearly sending them toppling to the ground, and she panted from effort while dragging him towards the Impala.

Something in her stomach stirred, but Jo didn't have time to analyse the feeling. Each step was an effort, her fingers digging into his forearm painfully in an attempt to keep his arm around her shoulders. The car seemed miles away. She gritted her teeth, and bit back the unexpected flash of red-hot pain in her lower abdomen.

"Jo-"

"It's okay Dean, we're almost there. Just hold on." His legs dragged behind them uselessly, and all of his weight now encased her. Willpower forced her brain to work through the pain and continue. "Almost there," she moaned and finally, five long, painful steps later they reached the side of the Impala. They fell painfully against the side of the car groaning. Dean's eyes slid shut.

Panicking, Jo shouted his name, desperately trying to pin him to the side of the car with her own body, while she fumbled for the passenger door. She cried out when his head fell back limply. "Dean?" she shouted terrified.

The necklace around her neck started to tingle. _'Castiel!'_ Jo remembered the allusive Angel, and looked to the sky, and started to shout Castiel's name in vain. _'Where is a friggin' Angel when you need one?_' she wondered, while screaming for help.

When no answer came, Jo realised how painfully alone she was. Despite what Castiel had said, no help was coming. _'Fine, I'll save him myself!'_ Resuming her earlier activities, she used her lower body to press Dean against the car, and she reached over to wrenched open the car door. She pulled Dean against her, and as she did so, his face crashed into her neck.

The stench of burning flesh distracted her momentarily from trying to guide him into the back seat. She looked down. Smoke slithered out from underneath Dean's face where it touched her silver necklace. Jo froze. She was suddenly hyper aware of the muscles clenching in her stomach.

Dean's eyes slid open, and oily black demonic eyes stared back at her.

"Oops!"

"No-" she cried in disbelief, untangling herself from him instantly. Instead of falling to his knees, he leant back against the car, and laughed at her horrified expression. "No!" Jo repeated, and continued to back away from the demon possessing Dean's body.

"I was this close," the demon crowed triumphantly. "Pretty good disguise, huh? Had you fooled for a second there, didn't I?"

"Wha-" The breath escaped her lungs. "What did you do to Dean?" The demon smiled smugly, his black eyes full of arrogance.

"What this?" He pulled his bloodstained shirt forward, and slapped the gaping wound in his chest. "This is just a flesh wound." He started to advance towards her. Jo's eyes darted around, desperate for an escape plan.

A burning sensation gripped her stomach, but the fear over ruled the pain, and her mind constructed possible scenarios of the forth-coming attack. _'The gun! Where's the freakin' gun?' _Jo wondered, glancing around for the Glock she had dropped carelessly. "Stay back!" she warned, still retreating from the demon. He continued to stalk towards her, his steps slow and deliberate.

"Or what? You'll call for help? You gonna sic one of your Angels on me?" He reached out to take a swipe at her, but she sidestepped him. "Clever," he taunted and made another swipe for her. Jo ducked under his arm in time and took another step back. "Did your boyfriend teach you that move?" He continued, his fist clenching and unclenching. "Did Deanie Beanie take the time out of his busy schedule of saving the world to teach his girlfriend a thing or two about fighting demons?"

"He didn't need too," Jo retorted, side stepping another one of his attacks. "Demons are such a low threat that I learnt all I needed to watching _Bugs Bunny_."

The demon grinned, the smile twisted and full of menace. It stole the breath from her lungs to realise the same face had grinned boyishly at her that morning. They started to walk in circles, dirt kicking up into the air from their frenzied steps, until Jo finally spotted the abandoned Glock over his shoulder. She glanced at the demon, trying to determine his next move, and paced her steps out until she could turn and make a run for it.

"Aw, it's so cute when you talk all tough. But let us not forget that we killed you once, so be a good girl and stay dead this time." He lunged towards her. Jo saw her opportunity and ran towards him. At the last second, she faked left and darted to the right. She sprinted towards the gun.

"Not so fast, beautiful," he snarled, appearing beside the gun just as she reached it. He clocked her in the face, and she stumbled backwards, while he kicked the gun off into the trees.

Hand resting over the stinging mark now imprinted on her check bone, Jo started to back away towards the Impala. She knew she'd never make it, but she wasn't about to meekly lie down in front of the demon and admit defeat. Fear gripped her heart, he prepared to strike at her again, and she lifted her leg in response. Jo barely felt her boot brush across his knee before she heard a sharp crack.

"Fuck!" the demon snarled, clutching his now broken kneecap in agony. He struggled to keep himself upright, and he glared at her while balancing all his weight on one leg. "You're stronger than Lilith said you'd be."

The demon's revelation barely registered in her head as Jo struggled not to moan in pain. The burning commotion in her stomach intensified the minute she had struck the demon; it was unlike anything she had experienced before. The pain seeped it's way into her nervous system, a pins and needles like sensation lacerating her arms and legs - Jo wondered oddly if she was about to have a heart attack.

The demon possessing Dean's body charged towards her with a deep cry. Instinctively, she raised her arm to evade his fists, and her foot connected with his stomach. The demon cried out in surprise as he was launched backwards into a tree several meters behind him. The massive tree trunk snapped in half due to the force of the impact, and the demon fell messily to the ground.

He didn't move.

Panting around the receding pain in her stomach, Jo quickly darted to the Glock, and snatched up the gun. Her hands shook as she crept towards the slumped demon. Exhaustion replaced pain, and she blinked sluggishly; it was a battle just to keep upright.

"Get up!" Jo instructed the demon, the shaking in her limbs increasing. Blood continued to ooze from beneath Dean's motionless body. His eyes, no longer black, stared unseeingly at the aging pine needles beneath his face. "Now!" she shouted hysterically. '_Oh my God, I killed him. I killed Dean. Oh my God.' _

Falling to her knees, she used the gun's muzzle to push at his shoulder. He rolled limply, like a rag doll, onto his back. Jo heard a muffled screaming in the distance, and it wasn't until she lowered her blood soaked hand from her mouth that Jo realized she was the one screaming.

She shut her mouth, the sound tangling itself in her throat, and she touched his face. "Dean?" she whimpered. "Dean, wake up." Rational thought abandoned her; she began to shake his battered and lifeless body. "Dean… no… not you… not now… come on… Dean! DEAN!"

Footsteps thundered behind her. Submerged in grief, Jo turned, tears streaming down her face, and trained the gun on the two figures exploding from the trees.

***

When the light faded behind his eyelids Dean opened his eyes. He looked up curiously at Castiel, who suddenly took hold of his collar, and jerked him to his feet. Annoyed, Dean glared at Castiel for pushing him around, until he spied the red headed demon on the forest floor. It was clear by the gaping black holes where her eyes should be, that she was dead.

Dean turned to congratulate Castiel, when he realised the Angel was saying something. Dean shook his head, his ears still ringing from Castiel's earlier actions, and tried to make out the muffled words. "Cas, I can't hear you!" Dean shouted over the ringing in his ears.

Castiel's mouth continued to move franticly, and it wasn't until a piece of spit hit him in the face that Dean realised the Angel was shouting. Dean was stunned, he couldn't recall the Angel ever raising his voice, let alone looking as furious as he did at that moment. Dean tried to focus on Castiel's mouth, trying in vain to read what he was shouting, until his lips formed one word he recognised.

"….Joanna?"

Realisation smacked Dean with the force of a Mac truck. _'Shit! Jo! I left her in the car! Shit! Shit! Shit!'_ Dean sprinted down the hill. Stray, low hanging branches snapped at his face, but he barely noticed them in his desperation to reach the blonde haired hunter. He cursed himself for his incompetence, while leaping over a rotting stump. He couldn't believe he was stupid enough to leave her unattended, and silently vowed to rip every demon to pieces that dared touch her.

His imagination projected possible outcomes he would find upon reaching the car. No amount of self-loathing and torture would be punishment enough if he found her in a pool of her own blood. Dean barely noticed that Castiel was running swiftly beside him, until the edge of Castiel's trench coat whipped the side of his leg. He wondered oddly why the Angel didn't just zap them to the car.

"DEAN!"

"Jo!" Dean's hearing returned with a burst of clarity, and his legs propelled him faster down the track. He burst through the trees, his eyes wide, and he spied the empty Impala with the doors open.

Castiel's hand grasped his shoulder, and twisted him towards the direction the Angel was facing. Dean shook the trench coat clad hand off his shoulder when he spotted Jo, drenched in blood, aiming a shaking gun towards them. "Jo!" he hollered and sprinted towards her.

His lungs deflated when he noticed her eyes widen in fear, and he realised she wasn't alone. A suspiciously familiar body lay crumbled by her feet. Dean stopped running and slid to a stop. It was an exact replica of his body – only dead.

She pulled the trigger.

Castiel yanked the Winchester sideways, seconds before the bullet tore through the space he had been occupying. Dean raised his arms in defence. His eyes narrowed; her hand was clamped over her stomach protectively, while her other hand aimed the gun at his head. Beside him, Castiel stilled his movements. Her eyes darted towards Castiel, and she turned and aimed the gun at the Angel.

"Get back!" she shouted, her tone indicating she was petrified and panic-stricken.

"Joanna, are you hurt?" Castiel asked gently.

Dean's eyes trailed over her body, analysing the disturbing amount of blood saturating her jeans, her tank top, her bare arms and finally, the blood streaks and splatters across her face. Even his well-trained eyes couldn't determine if she was actually injured or if the blood came from his doppelganger.

"Jo, it's me… are you hurt?" Dean tested, holding his hands up to show he wasn't going to hurt her. The arm aiming the gun at Castiel began to droop with fatigue, and Jo's uncertain eyes flicked from Dean's face to the impostor on the forest floor. "Jo, speak to me. Are you ok? Did he hurt you?"

"We have to leave, Dean. It isn't safe here," Castiel spoke up, glancing around the empty car park with an apprehensive gaze.

Dean glared at him. "Shut up," he hissed at the oblivious Angel. "Can't you see she's freaking out?" Dean turned back towards Jo; he knelt slowly in front of her. "Jo, it's ok. I promise. No one's going to hurt you. I just need to know that it's not your blood."

Jo didn't answer. She dropped her gaze down to her clothes, and as soon as her attention was diverted, Dean launched himself forward, and snatched the gun out of her hands. She reacted how he anticipated, however her resistance was surprisingly half-hearted and sluggish. She screamed in his already sensitive ears, squirming in his restraining arms, but she remained imprisoned against his chest.

"Jo, it's ok. I got you," he assured her, distributing his weight accordingly so that he could pull her onto his lap. She wiggled, trying to slide free, but her emotional state made it impossible for her actions to have any real impact. "Cas, take the gun."

Castiel did as he was instructed, and took the gun out of Dean's hand, and placed the safety lock back on. Hand now free, Dean pulled Jo tighter and let out a huff to clear her hair away from his mouth. "Lemme go," she whined, still fighting him uselessly. "Lemme go."

Dean didn't release his hold; he couldn't risk her escaping and bolting into the forest where she would probably hurt herself. "It's alright, Jo. I got you. You're safe now," he promised her. "It wasn't me. I'm ok. It was just a demon fucking with you. It's over now."

Her wiggling abruptly changed to trembling, and he detected her submission when she slumped against his chest. He buried his head into her shoulder, rocking her gently as her grief filled sobs penetrated the night. Her hands clenched franticly at his shirt, and he loosened one of his arms so that he could run a soothing hand through her hair. "It's ok," he repeated in her ear. "I got you."

Dean continued to sooth her, looking up only when he heard Castiel move around him. He watched the Angel bend over the fake Dean and roll him onto his stomach. Dean scrunched his face up at the sight of an exposed vertebra.

Jo's sobs subsided, and he slowly loosened his arms. He leaned backwards to push the hair away from her face. "Dean?" she whispered, her eyes staring at him vulnerably.

He nodded, and used his thumb to wipe away blood and tears from her eyes. "Did he hurt you?" he asked gently.

She shook her head, and shakily started to pull away from him. He eyed her warily, unsure if she was about to freak out on him again - but she merely climbed to her feet with unsteady legs. Dean quickly stood, keeping a steady hand at the small of her back in case her legs gave out. "I'm sorry," she mumbled embarrassed, wiping away tears and blood from her face with the back of her hand. "I thought I killed you," she admitted, looking at her feet ashamed by her emotional outburst.

"You did," Castiel announced bluntly, standing up after inspecting the body. "The spine is completely crushed and severed."

Jo gasped, and Dean shot Castiel a reprimanding glare. "Thank you Mr Sensitivity," he lectured. "And Sam says I'm a jerk." He ignored the Angels confused expression, and turned his attention back to Jo. She was staring at his carbon copy.

"I-I don't know what happened," Jo admitted quietly, her hands rubbing absently at her exposed arms. Dean immediately shucked off his jacket, and wrapped it around her. She barely acknowledged him as he forced her hands into the armholes.

"It was probably the-" Castiel cut himself off; he tilted his head towards the sky and closed his eyes. Dean raised a questioning eyebrow. Castiel's eyes flew open and he stared at Dean. "We need to leave, we're being observed."

"By who?" Dean asked, his eyes already on the tree line. He pulled Jo closer to his side subconsciously, and felt her stiffen. The muscles in her back clenched, and he glanced down to discover her hand was gripping her stomach again. "What's wrong with your stomach?" he asked concerned. _'Is it just my imagination or did she just gain a couple of pounds in a matter of minutes?'_

Jo looked up at him, surprised by his question. "I-" Without warning Jo bent over in pain, her arms winding around her stomach. "Oh God, it hurts," she moaned.

Castiel whirled around at the sound of her painful whine. Without warning he seized Jo's arm, threw it over his shoulder, and scooped her up into a fireman's lift. Jo cried out in surprise, and tossed a panicked look at Dean as Castiel strode towards the Impala. "Hey!" Dean cried out angrily, and chased after the Angel. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Put her down!Cas! Put her down now!"

"I'm not the one you should be worried about," Castiel remarked mysteriously, and pulled Jo to his chest tightly. Dean swore angrily, and ran to keep up with him.

"I'm serious Castiel, let her go or it'll be the last thing you do!" Dean demanded grabbing the Angels' shoulder. Castiel ignored him, wrenching his shoulder out of Dean's grip, and continued to advance towards the passenger side of the Impala. Dean could only watch infuriated as Castiel placed her gently in the front seat. "What are-"

"Head to Fort Collins," Castiel instructed him calmly. He stood up, and slammed the car door shut. "Drive as fast as you can. Don't stop unless it's necessary. Keep a low profile and remain vigilant."

"What about Jo? She's-"

"The pain will recede as soon as you are clear of the demonic activity."

"What? Cas-"

"Do not fight me on this, Dean!" Castiel insisted with an anxious expression staining his face. "I know you want answers, and I will give them to you when the time is right -but for now you must do as I say. Keep her safe, Dean. Nothing is more important than their survival."

"Whose_ 'they'_?"

"Dean!"

"What?" Dean barked with an insolent glare. Castiel looked livid. He narrowed his eyes, and Dean could tell he was mentally willing him to fall into line and obey his order. But Dean had, had enough of being pushed around. "You can't keep doing this Cas! I need to know what is going on, and I need to know now!"

"Dean-" The sound of Jo's whimper broke Dean's concentration, and he glanced at her through the window. She was hunched over, rocking back and forth in pain. Setting his face with a determined scowl, Dean pointed a warning finger at Castiel, before abruptly turning, and rushing to the driver's side. He started the engine with a growl.

With a vow to give Castiel a piece of his mind the next time they met, Dean squealed out of the parking lot, and hurtled back down the road towards the highway. In the rear vision mirror Dean caught sight of lightning, and was tempted to turn around. As furious as he was with Castiel for the constant cryptic orders and frequent absence, he did fear for the Angels safety.

"You were right, leaving the cabin was a bad idea," Jo admitted softly beside him.

***

"Anything outside?"

Ruby entered the small bathroom shaking her head. "Nope - just a bunch of firewood. I couldn't find any sign of Dean."

"Maybe we have the wrong place?" Sam mused out loud. He picked up a pair of jeans off the bathroom floor. His brother owned a similar pair that had the exact same, badly stitched up, hole on the left thigh. However the last time he checked, his brother's jeans didn't smell like they were covered in vomit.

Sam dropped the jeans back on the floor in disgust. He stepped around Ruby and headed back in the bedroom. A blue flannel shirt lay scrunched up on the edge of the bed, and a pair of women's briefs peeked out from under a wet towel on the floor.

He frowned. While nothing substantial proved his brother's identity in the cabin, Sam was convinced his brother had been living there for the last week. He walked towards the window and spied a thick line of salt. It was the same rock salt he had to kick aside to allow Ruby access through the front door.

The demon in question was eyeing the wooden cross on the wall above the bed. When she realised Sam was watching her she shrugged, and headed into the main room. "Maybe they'll be back," she called out.

Sam screwed his face up in thought, and joined her in the main room. A pair of jeans and a tank top lay slung over a chair in front of a long cold fireplace, and an errant blue sock sat on an armchair. Ruby was sniffing the tin of opened peaches on the kitchen counter. "Eww," she exclaimed, and put the peaches down.

"They can't have gone far," Sam said glancing around the room. "If Dean had taken off he wouldn't have left so much stuff behind."

"Since when has your brother been Mr. Clean?"

"Dean doesn't leave weaponry behind," Sam replied. His eyes roamed the bags on the table. "Not if he can help it."

"Well then maybe he went out to get some food," Ruby remarked with a raised eyebrow. "Speaking of which, I am starving. We drove all night to get here. If we head to the nearest town we might find him there."

Sam bit his lip. He _was_ hungry and if Dean didn't plan on returning then he really was wasting his time. Still, he didn't want to run the risk of missing Dean if they left the small cabin. "You go - I'll wait here," he finally decided.

"Sam-" Ruby started to protest, but he waved her off.

"I'm staying here." Sam insisted stubbornly.

Ruby rolled her eyes and crossed her arms defensively. Sam noticed that her pouting had increased significantly since Dean returned from Hell. "Fine. It's your funeral," She grumbled and headed for the door. "Do you want me to bring you something back?"

"Yeah, whatever's easy," Sam agreed, distracted. He rummaged through the weapons bag until his hands froze over a small knife. He recognised it instantly. It was the first hunting knife their father had given Dean for Christmas. He smiled and showed the discovery to Ruby, but she was already gone. Sam heard the distinct sound of the SUV speeding down the driveway.

Sam was positive he was closer to finding his brother. Feeling the weight in his chest lighten significantly, he conducted yet another inspection of the cabin. It was while he was inspecting the closet in the bedroom that Sam realised he had accidentally left his cell phone in the SUV with Ruby. He shrugged. He could always check his messages when Ruby returned.

***

"And you're sure?" Lilith questioned the demon bowing before her. The young girl nodded franticly, her small black eyes quickly glancing up at her before falling back to the floor submissively.

"I saw the whole thing. Asmoday was killed upon impact with the tree, but she barely touched him."

Lilith smiled, her dimples showing. She was delighted by the news. _'Finally, someone who can follow a simple order,' _she thought smugly_. _"Excellent," she praised the girl, patting her on the head. "Lucifer will be pleased."

The girl raised her head and beamed. "Anything for our father," she said, her pale cheeks growing pink with pride. "Is there anything else I can do to assist you?"

"That's all for now," Lilith responded and waved her hand. "You're dismissed." The girl seemed disappointed that her services were no longer needed, but she climbed to her feet obediently and rushed out of the room.

"I think she just about peed her pants with glee," Ruby spoke up, pushing herself away from the wall with her heel. "I think she'd chop off her head if you asked her to."

Lilith frowned at the brunette demon. "Too bad _some_ of my recruits aren't as eager to follow orders."

Ruby smiled, "I'm here aren't I?"

"It took you long enough," Lilith reminded her and took a seat in the velvet-covered armchair. Beside her a tower of frosted cupcakes adored the table, as well as a tall crystal wine glass filled with the blood of a newborn. Lilith smiled and ran her index finger over one of the chocolate flavoured cupcakes, and brought the frosting covered finger to her mouth. She sucked her finger and moaned delighted. She was going to miss sugar when Lucifer burned the earth to the ground. _'Maybe I could convince him to spare a single bakery for all my hard work?'_

"You knew I was humouring Sam with his search for his brother. A whiney determined Winchester is no use to me, not when I need his inner emo to come out in order to activate his powers," Ruby explained.

Lilith shrugged, and leant over to pick up her wine glass. She sniffed the contents and allowed an orgasm like shudder to run through her body. "You know if I was the demanding kind of boss everyone fears I am, than I might say you're wasting a gross amount of time with your pet. If it wasn't for Lucifers wishes that Sam be his little General in charge of the siege on earth, than I would have put an end to that oversized monkey years ago."

"Well I guess it's a good thing Sam has friends in higher places then," Ruby quipped.

Lilith raised her delicate eyebrow. "Careful Ruby, I wouldn't want you to forget your place – you are growing a little too big for those designer boots of yours."

Ruby's gaze immediately dropped to the floor, and Lilith suspected that it was out of habit rather than actual obedience. She sighed. She resented the day Lucifer had chosen the cocky, headstrong demon to be a part of his master plans. Lilith didn't like to compete for her father's attention, and she'd be dammed (so to speak) if she were going to be pushed aside for a human loving, French fry obsessing, ugly- "Forgive me," Ruby mumbled, interrupting her thoughts. "I was out of line."

"Yes, well, isn't everyone these days," Lilith grumbled. She flicked her long blonde hair over her shoulders. She was due for a new vessel; the one she was wearing was starting to tire from the constant globetrotting. "That's the problem with your generation – you grew up thinking the world was your oyster instead of working hard to earn your place. In my day we had to work for our virgin sacrifices – now you all just pop into any old body, have your way with a few carcasses and then leave a big mess… and for what? Does anyone remember your name? Does anyone fear your wrath? Do children lay awake in fear of your presence? No. Lucifer is just going to hand you kids the world on a platter and tell you to mind your manners," Lilith snarled and took a long sip of her drink.

Ruby was picking at something under her fingernails. Irritated by her lack of respect, Lilith stood and resisted the urge to rip the younger demon's face off. _'Wouldn't be so smug if you were stuck with no face for eternity, now would you?'_ Lilith thought bitterly. "I should probably go," Ruby spoke up, dropping her arm unimpressed.

Ignoring her completely, Lilith replenished her wine glass. "Speaking of kids," she said turning around to look at Ruby. "Now that we know for sure that the Harvelle girl is pregnant with the prophesised child I can move forward with my plan. Your job will continue as normal; distract Sam - keep him separated from his brother. Make him think Dean's ashamed of him and let him focus on trying to kill me. I need that wedge to be driven a little deeper between those brothers so that my plan will succeed."

"About that," Ruby said raising her eyes, and met Lilith's eyes confidently. "I had a thought."

Lilith rolled her eyes. "Really? I know that must be uncommon for you."

Ruby refused to be baited by Lilith's words and squared her shoulders defensively. "I know you're planning to attack Dean and steal the baby in order to bring it to Lucifer, but obviously that's going to be difficult even without Sam in the picture-"

"You think I'm scared of a couple of human hugging Angels?" Lilith challenged. "Please! I have met scarier kittens than Castiel."

Ruby tried to hide her disbelief, but Lilith spotted the slight quirk in her eyebrow and frowned. "Of course," Ruby acknowledged. "But I thought that maybe, you might consider an alternative option? One that would require little casualties on our side, but still accomplish the same goal."

"Ruby, I don't have all day – spit it out or get out."

"Let me do it," she pleaded. "Let me bring you the child."

* * *

Thoughts? Questions? Threats? :D I love reading your responses!


	15. Chapter 15

**Rating: **M

**A/N: **Sorry for the delay, but this chapter is longer so I hope that makes up for it. :D Thanks again for everyone's messages and thoughts. I really appreciate all you opinions and support. I know a few of you are worried that it's going to turn into a fic just about a baby or a pregnancy, but I can guarantee that wont be the case. The baby will be _apart_ of the fic - but there is a lot more to it. So I hope I don't let any of you down, and that I don't loose anybody. :D

* * *

'**Chain Reaction'**

"You just couldn't help yourself, could you Castiel?"

Castiel turned his head slowly. He identified Uriel, his heavenly brother and long time collaborator, strolling across the car park of the scenic outlook. As always, the malicious Angel was dressed in an expensive looking pin striped suit, his expression bordering on contempt. Castiel took a step back from the bodies sprawled before him. The three demons had been vanquished while trying to ambush the Angel. "What are you doing here?" Castiel inquired, a disapproving look staining his features.

"I heard a mighty ruckus downstairs, and wanted to check out the party you forgot to invite me to," Uriel responded, his white teeth flashing. He shook his head; his eyes alight with amusement. "My, My, My – what a mess you've made, brother."

"Surely my miniscule culling is nothing compared to your grand plans for earth," Castiel remarked. Still unaccustomed to such overwhelming emotions such as anger and betrayal, Castiel found it increasingly difficult to uphold a detached façade around the other 'specialist' Angel.

Uriel appeared not to notice Castiel's discomfort, and stepped around his friend. He toed the carcass of a demon with his leather shoes, and clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "You say it like it's a bad thing, brother."

Castiel bristled at the comment, and resisted the desire to take the traitorous Angel by the lapel, and throw him across the car park. When he spoke, his tone was tainted with disgust. "Tell me Uriel, what name would you give your plans for a complete, and utter massacre of the human race?" Castiel demanded, his lips twisting into a scowl. He ignored the constant pain gnawing inside his head; his normally blissfully orderly mind was a mess of thoughts and undomesticated emotions.

"I'm simply doing us all a favour. Earth has been over run by vermin long enough. It's about time someone exterminated the planet."

"Defying our Father, refusing your birthright, that is what you call a 'favour'?" Castiel snapped; the muscles in his jaw flickering. "You abandon the very reason for our existence, because you are resentful of the mess our fathers majestic creations have made?"

The bulky Angel sneered. "Majestic?! Ha!" He kicked the side of the now demon free vessel with such force that Castiel winced when he heard it's ribs crack. The enraged Angel turned to his brother; his eyes alight with untamed rage. "We were born into slavery!" Uriel hissed. "Perhaps if we had been gifted with the same freedom as these… _animals_ - than I may be a little bit more sympathetic to your useless endeavours to guard them."

"Your blasphemy will not go unchecked," Castiel warned. "If you continue to-"

"What? You'll report me? Look around Castiel! Do you see our Father striking me down? He has abandoned us! He doesn't give a damn what any of us do anymore." Uriel motioned to their surroundings, his tone infused with vehemence. " Tell me brother, by defending these savages do you feel blessed? Does walking around in their filth instil you with the Holy Spirit? Or are you just tired, and full of doubt like the rest of us?"

"Uriel, I am giving you once last chance. Seek redemption for your sins. Give yourself up to our Heavenly Father, and turn away from the temptation of evil."

"Save your sermons for the weak," Uriel remarked, uninterested by Castiel's plea. "I do not fear His retribution, because it does not exist anymore. God has deserted us – we own this world now."

Castiel open his mouth to speak, but he was unable to produce a single clear argument. He dropped his eyes, his heart trembling with rage. His mind bucked against the constraints of the human vessel. He felt Uriel's betrayal so deeply it left him breathless.

"Am I upsetting you, brother?" Uriel prodded, his tone curious. Castiel didn't dare raise his eyes for fear of revealing how much Uriel's words had pierced him. "I have noticed that you are becoming increasingly weakened the more these mud monkeys contaminate you with their emotions. I saw what happened earlier - you're fear for that ghastly Winchester made you blind to an obvious trap. I might have pitied you if I wasn't busy trying to obtain the girl myself."

"You," Castiel raised his head, his body trembling with wrath. "You created the clone of Dean to lead her astray. You knew she would abandon reason to save him."

Uriel shrugged dismissively. "It was no more than a parlour trick. I simply rented the carcass out to the highest bidder. Humans are _so_ predictable. All you have to do is pull one card from the stack, and the whole house comes tumbling down."

Castiel took a threatening step towards the other Angel. He drew himself to full height and made the seriousness of his threat clear. "I forbid you to raise so much as a hand towards her-"

"You _forbid_ me! Ha! What a joke!" Uriel clicked his long fingers. Three demons materialised behind him. Their black oily eyes glistened hungrily at the enraged trench coat clad Angel. "You see _Cas_, you are in no position to threaten me. I'm in charge now, and I don't take orders from anyone."

"Except for that snivelling demon Lilith," Castiel reminded him. Uriel's confident gaze wavered momentarily, and Castiel straightened his shoulders superiorly. "I have been aware of your allegiance for some time Uriel, but Lucifer is not God, and he will not gain a foothold on this earth no matter how many seals he continues to try and break."

Uriel smile returned, and he appeared amused by Castiel's promises. "You think a few flimsy locks will keep our all powerful brother at bay?"

"I do not," Castiel confessed. "But I have faith that Lucifer will not succeed in destroying this planet."

"Really?" Uriel debated, crossing his arms. The demons behind him chuckled and shared knowing glances. "So you actually believe God will find a way to shove him back into purgatory?" Uriel paused and uncrossed his hands. "Oh wait, I see… You are counting on a mere hybrid child to slay the most powerful Angel in all existence," He barked out a laugh. "Do you honestly think that you, a baby and a handful of mortals can stop us?"

"As a matter of fact - we do."

Castiel's eyes widened as he felt his heavenly sister, Anna, place a comforting hand on his shoulder. He did not need to look over his shoulder to know that three other Angels accompanied her. He could feel the power of their convictions, and the purity of their loyalty singing from their rented vessels. He resisted the urge to close his eyes with relief as a feeling of calm, and tranquillity washed through him.

Uriel looked incensed by the new arrivals. The demons behind him shifted nervously as they searched the faces of the stoic warrior Angels. The demon closest to Uriel took a reluctant step backwards increasing Uriel's fury. "Anna," Uriel spat. "I see you found your way back to the Angel fold. Did you finally realise that being human was not all it was cracked up to be?"

Anna ignored his taunts, and pulled insistently at Castiel's shoulder. "Castiel, leave us. I will take care of this." Her body shimmered with authority, and she nodded at him encouragingly. He had not seen her radiate such power for a thousand years. Castiel could tell there was something different about her; Anna almost seemed… complete...at peace. He longed to question her about her sudden appearance, and what it meant that she was an Angel once again. The last time he had seen her, she had fallen to earth all those years ago. "Castiel, go. They need you," she insisted with a gentle smile. "You need to tell Dean and Joanna the truth now. You can't keep them safe by keeping them in the dark anymore. They need to be prepared for what is to come."

"How do you…?" Castiel asked, but she interrupted him with a smile.

"Our Father offered me a choice. He asked that I return to duty and assist you however I could," Anna started to explain, but Uriel interrupted her with a cry of disbelief.

"Lies!" He snarled. "You have not spoken with _Him._ Why would he summon you after you disgraced yourself?"

"You look worried Uriel," Anna said, turning away from Castiel and greeting Uriel with a smug grin. "I'm thinking that you're not as confident in Lucifer's abilities as you proclaim - which means you are in BIG trouble _brother_."

"Anna," Castiel started. He could not leave her without finding out what she had discussed with their Father. He wanted to know how much of the prophecy she was aware of, and what it meant that God had brought her back. It was all too much for his vessel. He felt the energy sapping from his limbs as his mind sluggishly sorted through the doubt, and the concern he felt leaking from his heart.

"It's ok, Castiel," Anna begged, her eyes glittering with understanding. Castiel swallowed nervously, his heart began to beat painfully, and he was confused by the desire to touch her soft and creamy looking face.

The three warrior Angels behind him took an impatient step forward, their long silver blades drawn and at the ready. Castiel searched Anna's hazel eyes for doubt, but she merely squeezed his bicep. "I have faith in you Castiel. We all do."

It was difficult to breath. Castiel fought repeatedly against the swelling feeling in his throat. He was torn. He wanted to stay and fight, despite knowing the correct action would be to flee and allow her to confront Uriel and the demons. Yet fear, desire, concern all riddled his mind and tried to convince him to override his instructions, and stay by her side.

"What is going on?" Uriel demanded having watched the two Angels interaction with a critical eye. Castiel sensed his discomfort, and delighted in the fact that Uriel had always been submissive and wary of Anna. "Are you not going to try and stop me, brother?"

With a poignant glance at Uriel, Castiel knew he had to abandon his tiresome emotions, and leave the confrontation in Anna's very capable hands. Castiel acknowledged the Angel's behind him with a curt nod. Their impassive expressions did not reflect acceptance of his gratitude, but their unyielding presence told him more than their mouths ever would.

Anna's hand slipped from his bicep, but not before Castiel could catch her delicate hand and squeeze it lightly. She shared a surprised smile at his action, and joy flourished in her eyes.

"This is absurd! You wont even take a sword against me to defend your Father? Your faith has turned you into a coward, Castiel! I shall enjoy crushing this world if only to see your face when you realise God is not coming to save you!" Uriel shouted infuriated by their tender actions towards one another. "Lucifer has plans for that child Castiel, and he will find a way to capture him alive. So you can leave now and try to shield them, but there is no denying the bringer of light!"

Castiel had heard enough. He took flight without another moment of hesitation.

Anna turned her body towards Uriel, and eyed him depreciatively. Her shoulders straightened with authority, and her crimson red hair floated in an invisible righteous breeze. An intense bright light poured from her very essence, and her magnificent wings extended out from behind her. One of the demons mouths fell agape at the vision before them.

"Thy will be done," she whispered, and the three warrior Angels sprung forward.

Uriel's screams for mercy were swallowed by the night.

***

Dean reached out to turn the volume down when the heavy metal rock song broke into chorus. He glanced over at Jo. She was still curled up on her side, his leather jacket acting as a makeshift blanket. Her eyes were closed, but he didn't believe for a second that she was asleep.

She had been quiet.

Once Dean was sure they weren't being followed, and that they were relatively safe, he had pulled over quickly, and retrieved his spare pair of sweats and t-shirt he always kept in the boot. They were back on the road again in seconds, and after noting her confused look, he encouraged her to change out of her bloodied clothes. He kept an eagle's eye on the road in front of him while she undressed silently.

After she was changed, she curled up beside him and hadn't moved since. Dean was concerned. While she pretended to sleep, he watched the fuel slowly drain from the car with every mile. His mind replayed the scene at the outlook a dozen times, looking for something that his keen eyes might have missed the first time. Her continued stillness constantly interrupted his musing, and he kept throwing glances her way.

They had been lucky.

Dean knew that now. Castiel had been right to be furious. He had slipped up _again, _and Dean couldn't deny that if his father had been in Castiel's position he would have ripped Dean a new one for leaving her unattended. If Jo had been any other typical girl, then Dean was positive he would have returned to find her in a million pieces. A small part of him was secretly proud that she had been able to go up against a demon by herself, and walk away without any injuries.

The fuel light on the dashboard fluttered to life. They'd barely make it to the next gas station. Jo shifted. His eyes instantly roamed her body, searching for the source of her discomfort, but she merely pulled his jacket tighter around her body. "Are we nearly there?" her small voice inquired, her eyes still closed.

"Fort Collins is still another hour or so away, but I need to stop and fill up first." When she didn't acknowledge his response, he reached down and placed his hesitant hand on her lap. "Are you OK? Do you need anything?"

Jo shrugged, her hand brushing his own before curling up under the jacket. "My stomach is a little off, but it's nothing serious."

"Jo," Dean started unsure. He hated Dr Phil moments, and was tempted to just leave her be… but a voice in the back of his mind demanded he man up and make the effort, no matter how awkward he felt about it. "About what happened back-"

"I'm really tired," she interrupted him, her tone distant and almost robotic like. Jo curled further into the seat, her shoulder now facing him.

Dean reminded himself to check the road was clear before pursuing her further. "Jo, come on…"

"I'll be fine," she answered. "Just give me a minute… please?"

Dean didn't know what to do. He knew she was upset, but he also understood the desire to be left alone. How many times had Sam nagged at him, and tried to goad a reaction out of him when their father had died? Dean pushed his fingers into his short-cropped hair. Where was his sensitive brother when he needed him? This was Sam's area of expertise. Emotional displays were not Dean's forte.

So he did the only thing he knew how to do.

He reached under the jacket, found her clenched hand, and pulled it down to her lap. Weaving his long fingers through hers, he gently rubbed his thumb back and forth over her cold thumb. She opened her eyes, and looked at him surprised. He smiled encouragingly, and turned to focus on the road in front of him with the occasional glance at the red fuel light.

After a couple of minutes, her fingers squeezed his tightly. They settled into a comfortable silence. While Jo stared out the window, Dean hunted for a signpost indicating the nearest gas station. Finally after a few minutes of silent fretting, Dean spotted a small gas station and pulled into it.

The minute he inserted the nozzle, the Impala greedily lapped up the fresh fuel. Dean watched the numbers tick over impatiently, his body tense for action. The gas station was deserted in the early hours of the morning, and Dean was grateful.

The fuel dispenser clicked, and Dean released his grip on the fuel nozzle. Pulling it out, he quickly re screwed the cap, and replaced the pump. Heading towards the passenger side of the car, he knocked on the window gently.

Jo wound the window down. "Do you want anything?" he asked.

"Apple juice? And some ice cream or something?" she supplied with a hopeful smile.

Dean nodded, and headed inside. He noted a young female clerk reading a book at the counter. He quickly started scanning the fridge for juice, as well as an energy drink to keep him alert for the remaining hours to Fort Collins. He found her fruit drink on a bottom shelf, and yanked it out of the fridge.

'_Weird,'_ he thought to himself while pulling out his own drink. He moved onto the freezers containing tubs of ice cream. _'I was sure she told me in Philly that she hated apple juice, and that coffee was her choice of sustenance'_. He searched through the assorted ice creams. He had forgotten to ask what flavour she wanted, and finally settled on a chocolate chip flavour as a safe choice_. 'I hope she doesn't spew all this up in the car,_' he mused, and stepped into the medical isle. _'I can't see any of this helping her stomach ache'. _

On his left he noticed a row of bright pink bottles of Pepto-Bismol, and stopped. He debated over whether he should buy some in case Jo's stomach pains flared up again. He picked up the bottle and inspected the bottle's label with a critical eye, when a small box slid off the shelf, and landed by his feet.

Dean ignored the product, and kicked it to the side. He was comparing the price of the Pepto-Bismol to a similar cheaper product, when another box tumbled off the shelf. Instantly suspicious, Dean shifted the items he had collected so far into one hand, and bent down to pick up the blue box.

'Clear Blue – digital pregnancy test'

Dean frowned. Picking up the box, he shoved it back on its shelf. _'Stupid half assed built shelves'_, he thought to himself tiredly, and picked up the Pepto-Bismol_. 'Might as well grab it in case.'_ Dean added the bottle to his armload of products, and started to head towards the front of the store.

Behind him, he heard a box clatter to the floor. Dean turned around slowly. The same blue pregnancy test sat innocently in the middle of the isle. Dean glanced at the only other occupant in the store. The girl was deeply ingrossed in her book. Dean turned back to the isle, and slowly stepped towards the box. He bent down to pick up the box, just as another test hit his shoulder. "What the-"

He inspected the two fallen products perplexed. Finally, after finding nothing remotely supernatural about either box, he dumped them back on the shelf. Running his hand under the steel shelf he pushed against the brackets holding up the shelf. It wobbled at the slightest touch. Assuming that he had nothing to be concerned about, he withdrew his hand and headed to the counter.

He glanced outside. Jo was still sitting in the front seat, her eyes roaming around the gas station warily. Dean was satisfied that everything was normal and for now, safe.

"Just these, sir?" The girl greeted with a fake smile. Dean glanced at the book cover, and rolled his eyes. It was the damn Twilight book he hadn't stopped hearing about for the last year. Every time he looked through the newspapers or turned on the TV he was confronted with it. Dean wondered how all the teenagers would react if they actually met a real vampire. He certainly hadn't met any 'Edward Cullen's' over the years.

"Yeah, on credit," Dean replied, and watched as she rung up the items. _'Man, I still can't believe Jo wants to eat this crap after all those stomach cramps.'_ Dean craned his neck until he could spy Jo playing with the dials on his radio. Her face looked flushed, and Dean wondered if she was feeling sick again.

Then it dawned on him.

"Son of a bitch!" The girl at the cash register jumped, startled by his outburst.

"Sir?" She asked, already starting to reach for the panic button under her counter.

"Wait a sec," he muttered, and hurried back to the aisle he had just left. He shook his head, and found that the pregnancy tests were back on the floor. He picked them up. "No *freakin* way," he whispered to himself, turning the product around in his hand.

Suddenly it was very hard to breathe_. 'The nausea in the morning, the burger she just about inhaled yesterday, the extra weight, requesting strange food combinations…she HATES apple juice!' _

Dean turned to the shelf containing the remaining pregnancy tests. Taking a deep shaky breath, he reached forward, and scooped up an armload of the tests, and hurried back to the counter. The girl's anxious expression faded the minute she spotted the additional purchases.

He dumped the items on the counter and pulled his credit card out.

The girl smiled politely at him. "There's a bathroom round back," she suggested helpfully, motioning to Jo siting in the Impala oblivious.

Dean nodded, unable to form any words, and signed the credit card receipt in autopilot mode. His mind was whirling. _'No! She can't be pregnant. It's impossible. It was only the ONE time, and…and… I am so dead!' _The girl placed the items in the bag, and handed him the receipt. Dean snatched the bag and hurried outside.

Jo smiled at him happily when she saw him return, but her face fell when she saw the dark expression he was wearing. "What's wrong?" she inquired, while he slid into the car. "Was she a demon?" Jo whispered motioning to the girl at the cash register watching them with a knowing smile.

Dean didn't answer her. Instead he started the car. Without a glance back at the smiling clerk, he hit the gas and peeled out of the gas station. Jo quickly re-buckled her seat belt and hung on until Dean was back on the highway.

"Dean, what…?" Jo asked, glancing over her shoulder at the gas station. Dean ignored her, his thoughts thundering through his head. Luckily Jo didn't press him for answers - instead she peered out the windows looking for a sign of a threat. "I don't think we're being followed. Do you see anything?"

Dean still didn't comment. He bit his lip. His heart was pounding so hard he thought he was going to have a heart attack. Worry, concern, regret, disappointment, fear, surprise and relief all battled for top ranking in his mind. _'She's pregnant. Oh God, Joanna Harvelle is pregnant. I *made* her pregnant. I did this. This is my fault. I can't believe I was so careless! I'm always so careful when it comes to sex! Shit, How am I going to protect her and a foetus? What am I going to do with a baby? I'm going to be the worst dad in history. Oh my God I can't be a father. This can't be happening to me. Of course it's happening to me! When has anything in my life gone according to plan? How am I going to fix this? Castiel is going to kill me. No, Jo is going to kill me…. NO! Ellen is going to kill me!'_

"What the…" Jo's voice snapped him clear out of his thoughts. Her hand fished out a box from the bag. "What is _this_?"

Dean's eyes fell on the pregnancy test, and his hand's automatically tightened on the steering wheel. "What does it look like?" he snapped, and cursed himself for sounding so harsh.

Her eyes narrowed, and he knew she was annoyed by his tone. "It looks like you wasted a lot of money trying to be funny," she answered.

"Funny?" He exclaimed staring at her. "Do you see me laughing right now?" His eyes fell from the scowl on her face, to the hand placed over her stomach. She caught his gaze, and immediately withdrew her hand.

"It's just a stomach virus. Like you said, we haven't been eating properly. I just feel a little sick that's all," she insisted, sounding irritated.

"You feel sick _because_ you're pregnant," Dean argued. He pointed to the bag in her hand. "You *hate* apple juice."

"So you automatically assume I'm pregnant? Jesus Christ Dean-"

"You should not use the Lord's name in vain," Castiel corrected, appearing without warning in the backseat.

The Impala swerved to the left violently. "Castiel!" Dean shouted angrily, recovering from the shock. He steered the car back into the right lane while Jo jammed the test back into the bag. "I told you to stop that!" Dean admonished.

"I apologise for not announcing myself earlier," Castiel amended, with the slight tip of his head. He turned to Jo. "How is the pain? Are you well?" he asked concern filling his eyes.

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" Jo exploded, looking embarrassed. Dean grimaced. Castiel couldn't have arrived at a worse time. "I'm fine, Ok? I've probably got a stomach virus, but I'm *fine*." Her eyes narrowed pointedly at Dean.

A quick glance in the rear vision mirror revealed to Dean that Castiel looked surprised by her outburst. "Did Dean not explain to you that your condition is a result of-"

"That was you in the gas station?" Dean exclaimed, turning in his seat to give the Angel a dirty look. "What gives man?"

"Castiel, please don't," Jo warned in a tone that called for Dean to pull his eyes away from the road. She looked distressed. "This isn't funny-"

"Your current state is no laughing matter," Castiel commented, and placed two hands on the front of the seat. He leant forward. "I am here to answer any questions you may have, and to explain why your pregnancy is the current highest priority to the supernatural world."

"I- I'm not preg-"

"No good will come by denying that you are indeed with child," Castiel instructed calmly. "I know that you have been aware for some time that something has changed inside of you. You sensed the presence of the child when you were attacked by that demon earlier."

Dean's eyes snapped back towards Jo. She was shaking her head defiantly. "No. You're wrong, Cass. It was a freak surge of adrenaline. It was-"

"It was the child inside of you trying to protect itself," Castiel interrupted. He placed a hand on her shoulder and she stiffened. "Even now, you can feel him tensing in my presence."

"Woah! What?" Dean exclaimed. "First off…_him_?" Dean cried. "And secondly… it's a baby – what do you mean by 'trying to protect itself'?" A horn sounded. Dean realised with wide eyes that he had allowed the car to drift into the wrong lane. Dean quickly adjusted the Impala into the correct side of the road in time for a truck to barrel past them. He ran a shaking hand through his hair. One glance at Jo, and he could tell she was as freaked out as he was.

Castiel seemed oblivious, or at least gave no indication, to their distress. He continued as if reading a passage from a book. "The child will be unique in birth for he will walk like a man, but will wield the power of an arch Angel."

"No. Stop!" Jo denied, holding her hands up to halt his words. "I-I…please, no Castiel. No."

The Angel looked perplexed by her resistance. "I am sorry. I know this must come as quite a shock." He removed his hand from her shoulder. "I do not wish to laden you with such burdens now, I wanted to wait until-"

"Until what?" Dean exclaimed flabbergasted, having finally found the ability to speak after what Castiel had just revealed. He struggled to process the new information. "You wanted to wait until our kid sprouts wings, and starts flapping around the nursery until you let us in on what is going on?" He glanced at Jo. She was gnawing on her bottom lip. "What is with all the secrecy Castiel? Why wait? What is all this bullshit about our so-" Dean chocked on the word 'son' and had to clear his throat so he could breathe. "Is this why the demon's are hell bent on taking Jo out because they know she's up the duff?"

"Gee, thanks," Jo admonished with a glare.

"How else would you like me to word it?" he protested. "I'm doing the best I can right now, ok? Next thing you know Mr. Stalk back there is gonna tell me our kid is the saviour of man kind."

Castiel's head snapped towards Dean bewildered. "As a matter of-"

"Oh God," Jo moaned burying her head in her hands. Dean swore, and began to shake his head while muttering.

"It's never freaking easy, is it?" Dean hissed glaring at Castiel. "I can never have just one freaking normal moment in my life, can I?" He accused, his knuckles turning white from gripping the steering wheel so hard. "I just found out my girlfriend is pregnant, and it can't just be a nice normal hallmark moment can it? It has to be a freaking episode of the Twilight zone, choc full of demons and monsters, and end of the world shit! I'm so fucking tired of this crap!"

Castiel lowered his eyes to the ground, and did not answer him. After a few minutes of swearing to himself the anger ran it's course in his system, and Dean realised Jo's hand was resting on his thigh.

"I am sorry," Castiel started quietly. "If there was any other way-"

"Yeah, right," Dean said gruffly. Jo squeezed his thigh encouragingly, and he let out a deep wary sigh. "Alright fine, lay the rest on us. What else have you been keeping from us?"

"I understand that you are overwhelmed by the news, however the conception of the child was prophesised two thousand years ago, and I have been waiting-"

"You knew that we would-" Dean interrupted, waving his hand in between himself and Jo. "You knew we'd… get together? Is that why you didn't give me a heads up and tell me she was alive from the start? You sneaky son of a bitch – were you just sitting around hoping the two lab rats would get it on if you pushed enough buttons?"

Castiel tilted his head to the side, and looked puzzled by his rant. "I did not tell you because it was not safe to brief you on the situation."

"But you knew we'd hook up eventually didn't you?" Dean accused.

"Dean-"

"If you are referring to the two of you having sexual intercourse than yes, I was aware long before Joanna touched your-"

"Okay, Okay! We already know the details." Jo cut in looking sheepish. "We get it."

The Impala descended into awkward silence. Dean cleared his throat uncomfortable. "So it's written, you know, somewhere, that she was the one that started this?" Dean queried, looking hopefully at Castiel.

"Dean!" Jo protested, swatting his arm.

Dean shrugged. "Hey, I need to have the facts right when your mother comes looking for me," he complained. He turned his face towards her, his expression full of concern. "She's gonna hack my balls off, Jo."

"As I have already mentioned-" Castiel interrupted with a stern expression. If Dean didn't know any better, he would have sworn that the Angel was trying to repress a smile. "The conception of your child was prophesised long ago. Yet, it is what your son will grow to become that has Angels and demon's alike interested."

"Why?" Dean inquired with an apprehensive expression on his face. "I mean apart from the fact that we are going to have a hell of a time trying to find our kid t-shirts that have arm holes as well as wing holes?"

"Dean!" Jo chided with a warning look.

Dean continued, oblivious to Jo's protests. "I guess telling our kid he's grounded is really going to mean something," he quipped and stopped when Castiel gave Dean an exasperated sigh. "What? Ok, sorry for cutting into your big speech. Tell us what else this big prophecy says."

Castiel remained silent for several minutes until he was sure Dean wasn't going to interrupt him again. He took a deep unnecessary breath and continued. "The prophecy states that the child's destiny will be …"

***

Sam leapt off the porch steps when he heard the SUV thundering up the driveway. After four hours with no word from Ruby, Sam had grown concerned, and had abandoned his thorough investigation of the cabin. After discovering the bag of toiletries in the duffle bag, Sam knew without a doubt his brother had been there. The question was; was he planning on returning?

"Get in!" Ruby barked out, the window sliding down to reveal her urgent expression.

"What?" Sam asked, pulling open the door. She revved the engine and he quickly climbed into the car. He barely had the seat belt over his body when she swung the car into a sharp u-turn, and thundered back down the drive. "Ruby, did you find Dean?"

"Yeah, a source contacted me," she explained mysteriously. "But if we don't hurry we're gonna loose him."

"Why? What happened?" Sam questioned, bracing himself as Ruby pushed the car to its limits. The engine grunted when the car dipped into a rocky ditch, and Sam smacked his head against the roof of the car. "What's going on?"

"My source said Lilith's buddies are closing in on Dean right now. That's why he hasn't returned to the cabin – he's on the run." She paused and tossed a quick glance at him. Sam felt his stomach tighten. "There's something else you should know too."

"What?"

"The girl in Arizona… she's the other person that was resurrected from the dead." Sam stared at her. He could barely breathe while anticipation burned inside his chest. "It's Jo, Sam. The girl Dean's protecting… the innocent from the prophecy… it's Joanna Harvelle. She's the one carrying the child that will go on to defeat Lucifer when he rises."

The air inside Sam's lungs vanished. Ruby focused on the road in front of her while he processed the new information. The scenery whipped past them so fast Sam could no longer make out anything but streaks of colour. "Are we going to make it?" Sam asked breathlessly.

Ruby didn't answer him. Instead she focused on steering them onto the highway and over taking a large semi trailer. The truck honked impatiently when they cut in front of him and sped off.

***

Dean slammed his foot on the brake. Castiel hit the back of the seat awkwardly, while Jo hung onto the seatbelt. Dean whirled around in his seat so fast Jo was sure he was going to give himself whiplash. "What?!" he shouted with a menacing look at the Angel.

"A sacrifice will be made and Lucifer will rise. The child, who walks like a man, but wields the power of an Arch Angel, will lead the armies of Heaven against evil and defeat Lucifer."

The Impala was cramped with astonished silence as the two expecting parents slowly processed the Angels answer. After a couple of minutes Jo opened her mouth to ask Castiel a more direct explanation, when Dean heard the rumble of a familiar vehicle. He turned around irritated by the distraction, and let out an exasperated sigh.

"Ah for fuck's sake! Jo, get down," he commanded, and started the Impala moving again.

"What's wrong?"

"It's Bobby. Up ahead." Jo quickly did as she was instructed, and ducked out of sight. With her head resting against Dean's thigh, she waited with bated breath for Bobby's car to streak past them. Within seconds of passing the Impala Dean's pocket came to life with a jolt as his cell phone began to ring.

Careful not to knock Jo in the head, Dean eased his phone out of his jeans pocket, and answered his phone. "Hey Bobby." Jo looked up and studied Dean's face. "Yeah, that was me, I'm heading… yeah, Fort Collins. How'd you know?"

Jo frowned. She could already hear the car skidding behind them, and its engine roaring as it galloped towards them. Dean looked down at Jo, and shared a concerned look with her.

"What do you mean is Jo with me? Bobby…" Jo's eyes widened. She watched Dean glance in the rear vision mirror. "Cas told you?"

Castiel nodded with confirmation. "I have enlisted Bobby Singer's assistance," Castiel answered bluntly. "He is learned in the delivery of birth, and is the only one who can be trusted when Joanna is at her most vulnerable."

"Bobby knows I'm pregnant?" Jo squeaked startled, and sat up to face Castiel.

The Angel shook his head. "I have not briefed him on the exact reasons he was requested. He is completely unaware of your state."

Jo sighed a breath of relief, until she caught a glimpse of the shocked expression on Bobby's face through the back window as he registered her presence in the car. Jo wondered if she should wave. She saw Bobby yelling something furiously in to the phone.

Beside her, Dean was desperately trying to calm Bobby down. "Bobby, I couldn't tell anyone! She's in hiding… I know-"

Jo's vision suddenly blurred, and she blinked twice to focus her sight. She turned back around in her seat, trying to fight back the wave of dizziness that claimed her. Dread filled her chest. She knew what was coming next. This is exactly how she felt last time. "Dean?"

Dean was still talking to Bobby completely oblivious to the sudden change in Jo's demeanor. She gripped the edge of the seat, her breathing already shallow. "Yeah, that's him in the back." Dean continued to talk into his cell phone, his eyes trained on the road in front of him. "No, I don't know what is going on-"

"Dean-" Jo closed her eyes, and reached blindly for his arm. She could hear the blood pounding in her ears, and she desperately wanted the world to stop spinning around her.

"Huh? Hang on a sec, Bobby… what's wrong?" Dean pulled the phone aside, and glanced down at Jo.

Jo frowned, her stomach beginning to churn. Her throat started to burn in anticipation. "I think I'm going to be sick," she mumbled leaning forward. The muscles in her back clenched together painfully.

"You sure?" Dean asked. She felt his warm hand on her back, and she shifted away from him. She didn't want to be touched right now. She just wanted to lie down.

"Pull over – now," she insisted, and clamped a hand over her mouth before she could heave.

Dean barely swung the car to the side of the road before Jo threw the door open, and threw up. Dean released the seat belt gently to allow her to lean further out of the car. She embraced the feeling of the fresh morning air caressing her sweat-stained forehead. Vaguely Jo heard Bobby pull up in front of them, and Dean got out of the car.

"What happened? What's going on?" Jo heard Bobby shouting. She groaned and leant forward to be sick again.

A cool hand touched the back of Jo's neck, and the nausea instantly faded. Jo tilted her head to the side, and realised Castiel was crouched beside her. He withdrew his hand. Jo moaned when she caught sight of the mess on the ground. She was eternally grateful none of it had hit Dean's car.

"Jo? Jo honey, are you Ok?" Jo started to pull herself back up into a sitting position when she realized that Dean and Bobby were standing in front of her. Jo smiled up at Bobby weakly, and nodded. Before she could warn him about the puke puddle, the aged hunter dove forward, and collected her into a hug.

Her vision danced, and she vaguely heard Dean warn Bobby that she might be sick again, and to be careful. "I'm sorry Bobby," Jo mumbled out, and was relieved when he let go of her. She sucked in a deep breath, and forced the acidic burning sensation further down her throat.

"I didn't believe him when he told me you we're alive, but look at you. Look at you," Bobby gushed, and ran an affectionate hand down her face. "You're perfect."

Jo blushed, and tried to turn away from his loving gaze. "We need to keep moving," Castiel spoke up behind Bobby. The hunter untangled himself from Jo, and glared at the Angel who had interrupted them.

"Good. The roadhouse is only a couple of hours-"

"We cannot go to the roadhouse," Castiel cut in, giving him a look that told them it wasn't up for debate. "There are spies in place to monitor Ellen Harvelle's movements."

"What?" Jo asked, covering her mouth instantly when another wave of nausea threatened. "Is my mom in danger?"

Castiel shook his head. "As long as you do not come into contact with her, she is safe."

"Safe? Have you seen her lately?" Bobby roared, and took a threatening step towards the Angel. Dean intercepted the older hunter, and pushed him away from Castiel. "Elle hasn't eaten in days and is a mess. How can you do this to her you sadistic son of -?"

"Bobby-" Dean tried to sooth Bobby as the man struggled against him.

"I have no need to explain myself to you," Castiel remarked imperiously.

"The hell you do! Your messing with our lives – we aren't a bunch of lab rats!"

Jo tried to pay attention to what the men around her were saying, but she couldn't concentrate because her stomach muscles were starting to contract. Jo lifted her t-shirt, and noticed that the handprint on her stomach was now a deep green colour. She brought a hand to her stomach, and it was hot to touch. A tingling sensation invaded her arms, and Jo sniffed.

The stench of rotten eggs tickled her nose, and she clamped a hand over her mouth before she could be sick again.

"Dean," Jo spoke up, her voice muffled behind her hand.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked, pushing Bobby back, and bending down in front of her.

"I can smell... ugh, I can definitely smell sulphur."

Castiel's head snapped up, and he scanned their surroundings. Bobby was already running to his car to grab some weapons. Dean moved in front of Jo in a protective stance, his hand on her shoulder.

"Cas, I can't smell anything - what about you?"

"It's time to leave," Castiel stated, and turned back to the car.

"Bobby, we're running!" Dean shouted, and ran around the side of the car. Jo shut her car door while Dean started the engine. He glanced over at her. She was pinching her nose shut. "You ok?"

Jo nodded, she didn't dare open her mouth. Dean hit the gas, and they sped up the highway. Bobby kept his car close behind them. Dean glanced outside, and squinted through the windscreen.

"I require a writing instrument."

Dean didn't appear to hear the question, so Jo leant forward and rummaged through the glove box. Finding a long piece of chalk, she handed it to Castiel.

Leaning forward in his seat, Castiel took the chalk, and drew a long white line on the roof of the car.

"What the hell are you doing?!?" Dean screeched, finally noticing what the Angel was doing to his car.

Castiel ignored him, and continued to draw a series of lines, and strange symbols over the cream interior. Dean continued to splutter furiously while Castiel finished the ward. Jo tilted her head. It was unlike any demon ward she had ever seen.

Beside her, Dean was still muttering furiously. "... ruin my life, doodling all over my fucking car, stupid, trench coat wearing…" he was cut off when his phone starting ringing. "Yeah?" Jo was still staring at the symbols, trying to memorize them, when Dean stuck his head out the window. "Yeah, I see it. Crap…" he hung up the phone.

Jo tore her eyes away from the ceiling, and peered out the back window. A black cloud was heading straight for them. She watched it fascinated. The smoke like cloud twisted, and bounded through the sky.

"Tell me that's not-" Jo muttered horrified, her hand resting on her burning stomach. "They're demons," she realized with a gasp. The clouds parted into two individual clouds and snaked their way towards the road. "Oh God."

"Dean, wind up the window," Castiel instructed. He pulled a small silver dagger from inside his trench coat, and ran it across his arm. Jo gasped as blood began to pour down his arm, but he seemed oblivious to the pain, and raked his fingers across the fluid. Once his fingers were coated in enough blood, he raised his hand to the ward and traced a circle around each of the symbols.

Dean pulled his head inside and wound up the window. Jo tried to keep her eyes open to watch what Castiel was doing, but the pain in her stomach was too intense. She felt Dean's reassuring hand on her back, and tried to take comfort in the caress. "Cass, what do we do?"

"Keep driving. Don't arouse suspicion."

"What about Bobby? Is he safe?"

"Yes. They are not after him, though," Castiel answered honestly. "Joanna, are you still wearing the cross I gave you?"

"Yes," Jo answered, in between deep breaths.

"Good. It will keep you safe from possession," Castiel remarked satisfied. The smoke was now hovering above the car. Jo's fingers found Dean's knee, and she clenched down as hard as she could to stop herself screaming. "They can not see you, but they are looking," Castiel explained. "They will pass once they are sure you aren't here."

Jo just nodded. Her entire body was riddled with pins and needles. She desperately wanted to scream obscenities. She felt a thudding against the side of her stomach, and Jo was forced to realise that she really was carrying a child. She could recognise its panic, and discomfort by the constant fluttering against her insides. It was surreal. The discovery temporarily distracted her from the pain.

"Cas, what is going on?" An intense scraping noise stung their ears. It sounded akin to nails raking down a chalkboard. "I swear if they scratch my car-" Dean snarled under his breath. His hand tightened on Jo's back. Castiel took a large swab of blood from his arm, and pressed his palm to the middle symbol. The screeching noise abruptly vanished.

"They have not left, I have simply dulled their senses," Castiel enlightened them, and kept his hand in contact with the ceiling. Dean's phone rang, but he ignored it, and continued to drive in a straight line. "They are confused," Castiel advised. Jo cracked one eye open, and peered up through the windscreen to see the black cloud move in front of the car. It hesitated over the hood of the car briefly before veering left. The further the two smoke clouds moved, the more the pain ebbed away from her body.

Loosing her grip on Dean's leg, Jo let out a relieved sigh. Dean pulled the hair away from her face. "You Ok?" he asked concerned.

"Just peachy," Jo moaned, and slowly sat up. She ignored the sudden craving for a greasy hamburger and ice cream. Muscles protesting, she rubbed her stomach absently while watching the smoke cloud dart over a patch of forest.

"I can not stay much longer, my presence is creating curiosity from the Garrison as well as the demons," Castiel told them quietly. "Head to the nearest motel, and rest. I will return when it is safe." He turned to Jo, his expression sombre. "Do not exert yourself. The child is still at a critical stage, and despite it's accelerated growth, it still requires the necessary time to grow and develop."

"Accelerated growth?" Jo questioned, instantly concerned.

Castiel bowed his head, his brown eyes full of remorse. "I had my orders. It was necessary to advance your pregnancy for the sake of the child's protection."

"Who gave you these orders?" Dean demanded. He shared a disturbed glance with Jo. She was biting her lip again.

The Angel did not acknowledge his question. Instead he lowered his hand from the ceiling. "I must depart. I ask that you remain indoors until I return. There will be several demon hunting parties looking for the two of you."

"Cas, don't you dare leave us this way," Dean growled, turning in his seat; but the Angel had already disappeared. Dean swore and punched the steering wheel. After a few moments of silent fuming, he turned to Jo and found her staring at him. The colour had sapped from her cheeks, and she looked exhausted. "What?"

"My mom doesn't seem so scary now, huh?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Ask me again tomorrow."

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Thoughts? Questions? Opinions? I know ya'll wanted to see Dean's reaction - was it what you thought it would be?


	16. Chapter 16

**Rating: **M

**A/N: **Thanks everyone for your kind words and support. Hope you like this next chapter just as much! Big thanks to Hannah for her amazing beta skills, and for being really patient with me when I started to question every single thing I wrote.

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'**In This Life'**

It had just started to rain when the small group of hunters pulled into the car park belonging to a shabby, red brick motel. Bobby parked his car in front of the reception area, and disappeared inside without a word to organize their rooms. Parking the Impala in the designated visitor's area, Dean maintained a vigilant eye on the quiet, run down street and eased himself out of the car to take stock of what weaponry they had left in the boot.

Head compacted with thoughts and questions, Jo tried to distract her brain by concentrating on copying down the ward Castiel had messily drawn on the roof of the car. Dean remained deliberately ignorant to the mess on the ceiling, and Jo suspected he would not acknowledge it's tainted existence until it was required to save their butts.

Biting down on her lip, Jo swallowed painfully. An acidic burn continued to thread itself up and down her throat, while maintaining a foothold around her heart. She looked down at the empty cartoon of ice cream, and apple juice with a forlorn expression. She wished she hadn't been so quick to devour the contents after spewing her guts up on the side of the road, because now she was _really_ desperate for something cool and soothing to drink.

Dean swore angrily, distracting her momentarily from analysing her heartburn. The thick leather seats in the back of the car barely muffled his constant muttering as he persisted in rummaging around in the boot.

Jo allowed herself to drift into a daydream containing bathtub-sized cartons of milk, followed by overflowing buckets of strawberries – which she considered odd, because she hadn't eaten strawberries since she was a kid. Stomach growling miserably, she tried again to concentrate at the task at hand.

Dean shut the boot heavily - the car rocking slightly from the force. Peering through the rain-splattered windscreen, her eyes followed Dean's bowlegged strides towards the reception area. Bobby was just exiting the office when Dean caught up to him. After a short discussion she couldn't make out, Dean turned and headed back to the car.

Sliding heavily back inside the car, he shook his head; rain drops clinging to his spiky hair splattering over her face. He started the car with a cheeky grin. "There's some beer brewers convention in town, so Bobby could only bribe one room out of the guy." He pointed out their room at the end of the long L shaped building. Jo nodded, folding her sketch of the demon ward, and placing it in her pocket.

Her stomach chose that moment to announce it was hungry with a loud embarrassing growl. Dean smirked. "Hungry are we?"

"Just a little bit."

Parked side by side, Dean motioned to Bobby that he would enter the motel room first. Slipping his gun out of the waistband of his jeans, he swept into the dark room without a moment of hesitation. After a thorough investigation, he emerged a few seconds later to give them the all clear.

Jo climbed out of the car, stretching her cramped legs with a hiss. After a few seconds of enjoying the feel of the cool rain against her hot skin, she went about sorting through the groceries they had bought back in Monticello. She placed all the cans and bags of salt in one bag, and was about to yank the heavy bag out of the car, when Dean snatched it from her. "Hey-" she protested trying to take the bag from him.

"Didn't you hear Cas? You're supposed to rest," Dean hissed with a disapproving frown.

Jo rolled her eyes. "Dean, I can carry one bag for crying out loud," she complained, attempting to elbow him out of the way. He stepped in front of the remaining bags, intercepting her from reaching for anything else. Her temper flared quickly. "Dean!" Jo snapped, thumping him in the chest. "Knock it off."

Dean took no notice of her irritation, and gently shuffled her away from the car. "Don't be so stubborn," he told her patronisingly. Jo scowled. "Just go inside and I'll take care of it."

"Dammit, Dean!" Jo hissed angrily, her eyes alerting him to the possibility of sudden violence. "I don't need your help. I'm not some defenceless idiot. I can look after myself."

Dean raised his eyebrow, his expression clearly amused by her tantrum. She made an effort to dart around him, but he held out his forearm to block her from reaching into the car. "Go on, get inside."

"I swear to God Dean, if you don't move I'm gonna-"

There was a clearing of throat behind them. Jo became aware of the fact that Bobby was watching them from the door of the motel room. She quickly stepped behind Dean so that Bobby couldn't see what she was saying, and pointed a threatening finger at the amused Winchester. "I'm pregnant Dean, not handicapped! I'll kick your ass if you don't stop bossing me around."

He disregarded her threat with a teasing smirk, and grabbed her elbow in an attempt to steer her towards the motel room. Jo didn't budge. Instead she levelled him with a glare that Ash had once referred to as 'The Harvelle Ball Buster'. Dean rolled his eyes and whispered, "I know you can take care of yourself, but Cas gave us strict instructions that you take it easy."

"What's the hold up?" Bobby called out, looking suspicious. He jerked his head back, and emphasised the open motel door. "What are you two hissing about over there?"

Jo flushed with embarrassment. "Nothing. We're coming."

With Jo temporarily distracted, Dean grabbed another handful of bags victoriously, and shut the boot with his elbow. "Don't worry Bobby – it's a long story," Dean remarked, and lifted his knee to nudge Jo forward. She cast him a seething look, but complied with being herded inside.

Inside the retro inspired room it was hot and stuffy, and reeked of stale cigarette smoke. Dean kicked the door shut with his heel, and dumped the bags on the table. Moving around him, Bobby shut the thick orange velvet curtains, and then proceeded to switch on the bedside lamp.

The room was flooded with a puke yellow colour, and the older hunter grimaced. "Well it looks like we've got time for a long story, kids - so spill. What's going on?" Bobby dumped his duffle bag on one of the orange coloured plastic chairs by the table, and took a piece of chalk out of his pocket.

Deliberately avoiding the question, Jo pretended to wrestle a bag of salt out of one of the bags. Dean attempted to help her, but she batted his hand away, and left the room to run a salt line over the windowsill in the bathroom.

Dean, who was unable to avoid Bobby's insistent questions on what was going on, debriefed Bobby cautiously on the last week.

Inside the bathroom it was a mess of orange and red tiles, and bright green circles. Jo tore the corner of the salt bag open with her teeth, and slowly poured the contents in a thick straight line over the windowsill. When she was finished, Jo re entered the room, and found Bobby standing on a chair drawing a devil's trap on the ceiling. Dean, who had already finished salting the door and window, was laying out a neat line of weaponry on one of the beds.

Jo noticed that while Dean answered Bobby's abrasive questions, he conveniently skipped over the parts about the two of them sleeping together, and left out Castiel's pregnancy revelation all together. She released the deep breath she hadn't realised she was holding. Jo was definitely not ready to share that kind of information with Bobby yet – that is, not until she had a moment to herself to privately process the prophecy information. Until then, she would just suppress her emotions and live in a comfortable state of denial.

Bobby finished the devil's trap and stepped drown of the chair. "I swear - the two of you are the luckiest idgits I have ever known." He inspected his handiwork before turning towards Jo. Her guilty eyes skittered away from his curious gaze. Fumbling for the sketch in her pocket, she produced the new ward and showed it to Bobby.

"Castiel drew this inside Dean's car. He said that it confuses the demon's senses when they are looking for you."

Bobby took the ward from her, and glanced at the motel door. "What are these darker bits?" He asked, tracing the darker circles around each ward.

"Blood." Jo took the paper from him and started to demonstrate how Castiel had drawn the symbols. "He drew this area first, and then he used blood to draw the circles around each of these symbols. When the demon's got too close he covered his whole palm in blood and pressed it to the middle, and held it there until the demon's lost interest."

Bobby frowned at the sketch. "Blood, huh?" He held up the sketch and then started to slowly draw the symbols on the back of the front door. "Did he say if it needs to be Angel blood specifically, or any old blood will do?"

Jo shook her head, leaning against the table. "He didn't say."

Bobby nodded with confirmation, and tilted his head to make sure the design was correct. When he was done with the symbols he turned to her. "Maybe we should just leave the blood part for now," he suggested and tossed the chalk on the table beside Jo.

They watched Dean dismantle one of the shotguns. After a couple of minutes of awkward silence Bobby cleared his throat. "You know, just because I'm getting on in the years doesn't mean I'm too old or stupid not to notice that there is more to this whole story than Dean is telling me."

Jo looked up at Bobby surprised. His expression was dangerously close to anger, but there was a deeper presence of relief in his eyes. She glanced at Dean, hoping to catch his eye, but he was resolutely focused on cleaning a particular spot of the guns barrel. Jo opened her mouth to try and assure the hunter, but he waved her off.

"To be honest - I don't really care right now. I'm just glad you're alive, and that this bonehead is in charge of watching your six." He reached out to her, and pulled her to his side roughly. Jo smiled, delighted by the small hug, and looped her hand around his waist, and squeezed him back.

Dean glanced up from the gun, and observed the two with a satisfied expression. A second later his eyes snapped back to his task, but a small smile twitched at the ends of his mouth.

"Having said all that… I still think you're wrong about one part. Ellen should know that you're alive. It's not fair to ask me to keep this from her," he lectured, looking upset when Jo abruptly untangled herself from his loose hug. "You know better than anyone what your death is doing to her. She is devastated. She is barely functioning-"

"Bobby, don't-" Dean warned, interrupting the man. "Jo gets it, ok? Don't make her feel guiltier than she already does."

Surprised by the Winchesters words, Jo tried to catch his eye again. Yet Dean was too focused on ejecting the bullets from the shotgun and inspecting them for corrosion to notice. She suspected he was doing it on purpose.

Bobby, who appeared less then impressed by Dean's warning, folded his arms across his chest stubbornly. "I'm sorry, but I don't buy it kid - you should have found a way to let Ellen know you were alive the minute that manipulative SOB brought you back."

Jo bit her lip, feeling like she was five years old again, and she was being scolded for sneaking into the bar and sneaking a sip of the scotch her Daddy always drank. She fidgeted under his gaze, studying the floor and the hideous lime green bedspreads.

Bobby was entitled to be angry with her – Jo did know better than anyone how much her death would effect mother, but it wasn't like she hadn't considered breaking the rules and running to the Roadhouse a dozen times herself. She sighed.

"Am I right, Joanna Beth?"

Luckily she was saved from having to answer his accusing glare, when Dean tossed the gun on the bed. "Knock it off, Bobby. Don't you think we would have found a way to tell Ellen if we thought Cas was over exaggerating about her safety?"

The older hunter served Dean a disapproving look. "Stay out of this, boy," he threatened, his voice deep and commanding. He turned his focus on Jo, and the look of parental disappointment tore at her more than if he had screamed and called her names. "You don't get it do you? No parent should ever have to bury their child. Do you hear me? It's cruel - and until you're a parent yourself, you'll never understand the level of heartache Ellen is experiencing right now."

Jo nodded dejectedly, turning her head away from his piercing brown eyes before he had a chance to register the level of understanding in her eyes. While she commanded her emotions to remain tightly locked in her throat, she played with a stray piece of cotton thread on her shirt. She could feel Dean's eyes on her, but she didn't dare look at him for fear his glance would prompt the release of the tears welling in her eyes. She swallowed thickly.

"Bobby, enough," Dean spoke gruffly. "Jo is doing the best she can right now." Jo was taken aback when Dean moved to stand in front of her defensively. She noted with a quick glance that he puffed out his chest and pulled his shoulders back. His body language made his threat clear.

Bobby seemed less than impressed by Dean's sudden chivalry. "Dean, this isn't about you-"

"Of course it is! Cas put me in charge, and I am _telling_ you that you'll get Ellen killed if you contact her." Bobby frowned at the Winchesters words. "We're not doing this for thrills, Ok? We're doing this to protect her, Bobby… and it's not like it's going to be forever. Once Cas says it's safe then we will tell Ellen the truth." Before Bobby could open his mouth to challenge him, Dean turned to Jo. "Why don't you grab a shower, while we work on some food?"

Jo opened her mouth to protest, but quickly closed it when Dean gave her a pointed look. She nodded with understanding. He wanted a private word with Bobby. "Yeah, ok."

Slinking to the bathroom, Jo avoided Bobby's suspicious gaze. She closed the door gently behind her, and quickly turned on the taps. The minute the water poured into the shower stall, Dean could be heard yelling at Bobby. Jo felt a warm pang of comfort in her heart, and was moved by the fact that she was on the receiving end of Dean's fierce loyalty. Bobby swore loudly, and Jo made out the name 'John', before Dean's furious tone drowned out his argument.

Jo released a quiet sigh. _'I can't believe it's only been a week, after everything that has happened… It feels like a year has passed since I met up with Dean'_. Now within the privacy of the motel bathroom, she allowed herself to take a deep breath, and let the events of the last week catch up with her.

While Bobby continued to stress his disappointment in between Dean's muffled ranting, Jo started to undress. All thoughts for her mother abruptly disappeared while standing on the cold tiles in front of the large mirror. _'Woah.'_

Gazing at herself in the mirror, there was no denying that her body had started to change. Her stomach, which had been flat and toned a couple of days ago, now swelled in the middle. The handprint scar she bore was stretched and disfigured. When she ran her curious fingers over the small bump her skin felt surprisingly soft and warm.

Steam started to encompass the room, yet Jo continued to explore the new developments in her body. She unclasped her small cotton bra, and was surprised to discover such relief when the material was discarded. Her breasts were definitely bigger. She cupped them gently, delighted by the fullness.

Jo's hands skipped over her hips next. Her normally boyish, bony hips were now replaced by smooth luscious feminine curves. She twisted her body back and forth, inspecting the way her body moved. While certain muscles felt stiff and strained, the rest of her body moved gracefully, and she was amazed by the differences. She had never felt so womanly in all her life.

The motels front door slammed shut, and Jo quickly stepped inside the shower, and pulled the curtain shut. Seconds later knuckles rapped against the bathroom door. "Jo?" The door opened a crack, Dean's fingers poking around the doorframe. "Bobby's gone to grab us some food, and supplies," he called out, his tone infused with a tenderness she wasn't yet familiar with. "But I'm gonna be around if you need anything."

"K," Jo called out, leaning back to allow the water to slide through her hair. The water felt delicious, the tight muscles in her lower back instantly loosening. After rubbing water out of her eyes, she realised with a smile that Dean had left the door ajar.

Things had definitely changed between them. No longer could she deny the feelings she had worked hard to suppress around Dean. Over the course of a week those same, seemingly unrequited, feelings had rapidly morphed from suspicion, to relief, to desire, to familiar rejection, to an eventual discovery of a deep connection that startled her with its intensity.

And it wasn't just physical.

Sex with Dean Winchester had been as passionate, and as exciting as she had expected (and secretly dreamt) it to be - but it was the couple of days later when they had spent the entire night trading stories, and really honestly talking to one another, that convinced Jo that there was no turning back. Jo had, with surprisingly little resistance, given in to the fact that she really was in love with the cocky, loyal to the bone, promiscuous, haunted Winchester… and now she was going to have his baby.

Somewhere out there Bill Harvelle and John Winchester were killing themselves laughing.

Jo snorted at the thought, and chocked when she inhaled some of the water from the shower. Dean was at the door in seconds, interrogating her through the gap to see if she was Ok. Jo wondered if he had been hovering by the bathroom listening to her shower.

She rolled her eyes at his trepidation, but could not deny the fact that she was more than a little turned on by the thought that he was listening to her shower. Chiding her mind, she quickly assured him she was fine, and told him she had soap in her eyes before resuming the task of washing her hair.

As her hand swept over the small bump on her stomach, her thoughts replayed Castiel's earlier confession in the car. It took a couple of deep breaths to resist the sudden urge to panic, before Jo could concentrate on what she was going to do. Two months ago she knew she would have given in to her emotions, and cried her eyes out about being pregnant and on the run - but Jo was relieved to find that her main thought was planning how she was going to protect her baby instead.

When she removed the supernatural aspect of her pregnancy, she found it wasn't too much to handle. She could do this. Her life had purpose now. She didn't need to wonder why Castiel had brought her back from the dead anymore. Now she knew. He had brought her back so she could carry this child. She wasn't alone either. Whether he decided he wanted to or not, Dean was now bound to her side.

Yes, the child was advanced. Yes, she wasn't going to have a normal pregnancy, and yes, the child had a terrifying destiny -- one that made Jo consider for a split second taking off with the child, and keeping him safe and hidden forever. But she couldn't afford to think like that. There was no room for being irrational. Her priority right now was to nourish and protect the child. Dean could be counted on to help protect the environment they were in, but it was solely her responsibility to protect the child growing inside her body.

Jo scrubbed off the last vestige of rusty coloured blood on her elbow. She hadn't felt the presence of the baby since the demon attack in the car, and that made her worry. Yet the more she tried to pinpoint the exact feeling and location of the baby, the more it made her head hurt. Eventually she settled for trusting the strong, clear instinct inside her that told her everything was fine and safe.

For a moment, old insecurities threatened to overwhelm her, but she denied them access to her heart. She could do this. She was Joanna Harvelle dammit! If she could slay monsters, and come back from the dead, then she could raise a child. It didn't matter that she had never even held a newborn baby in her entire life – she would figure it out. If there was one thing Jo could be proud of, it was her ability to adapt to a new situation. That's all she had to do. Adapt.

A heavy knock sounded at the front door, and she turned the shower off. Dean's heavy footsteps trudged across the room, and Jo tried to make out the muffled conversation. Pulling a stiff motel towel around her, she paused in front of the mirror, waiting. It was the motel owner. The front door closed, and footsteps made their way towards the bathroom.

"Hey." Dean pushed the door opened gently, and was surprised to see her hovering expectantly. He held up her weapons bag. Over his shoulder, she spotted his own duffle bag on the table. "Cas left us a special delivery."

Jo grinned, and embraced her bag happily. Distracted by sheer relief and joy for her missing belongings, she was oblivious to Dean's appreciative gaze raking across her body. When she finally came to her senses, and realised he still hadn't moved away, she smiled. "De Ju Vu," she teased.

Dean grinned, eyes twinkling as he scratched at the back of his head. He didn't appear embarrassed at all at being caught out observing her. "I had something in my eye."

She chuckled at his denial. "I bet you did."

The front door rattled as keys were roughly inserted. Jo quickly slipped back into the bathroom, while Dean rushed to assist Bobby in carrying an armload of food.

Dumping her bag on the small narrow bench, a smile stained Jo's lips while she rummaged through her bag. It was obvious that new clothes had been shoved inside the bag, and she recognised several shirts and pieces of underwear from her house back in Arizona. She wondered how the Angel had known what to pack. Or why he had bothered.

Bobby called out for her to hurry up before her food got cold.

Acknowledging his request, Jo called out that she would just be a second and quickly pulled on a pair of sweat pants. She found her favourite navy blue spaghetti strap tank top and pulled it over her head. Once she was dressed, she began to comb her fingers through her wet hair until it was fairly decent.

Dean hollered that he was about to eat her burger if she didn't move it, and she quickly abandoned the bathroom. When she seated herself at the table over flowing with Styrofoam containers and bottles of water, Bobby surprised her by placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. She stared at him quizzically, but he only squeezed her shoulder and gave her an apologetic smile.

Jo glanced at Dean. His mouth was brimming with food, and he was chewing noisily, but he nudged her foot under the table. Jo turned to Bobby, and rewarded him with a smile. "Thanks, Bobby."

The older man grinned and started in on his meal, but not without insisting Dean chew his food like a human instead of a canine. Dean rolled his eyes, but used a napkin to wipe the excess sauce off his chin instead of his sleeve.

***

"Can't sleep either, huh?"

Jo turned her head. Dean was lying on his side in the single bed beside her. On the opposite side of the room Bobby was in the double bed snoring so loud, the wallpaper was rattling. "Who can sleep with a chainsaw in the room?" she whispered with an irritated moan.

Dean snorted. "You should hear him when he's been drinking. I once opted for sleeping in the Impala, with headphones and a pillow over my head."

Bobby grunted in his sleep. The snoring momentarily ceased as he rolled onto his side, mumbling something that sounded like 'idgits'. A second later the deep snoring resumed.

Jo picked up her pillow and placed it over her head. She was never going to get any sleep with all this noise. Dean chuckled, and she lifted the pillow slightly when she heard him get out of bed.

He was still fully dressed in sweat pants and a t-shirt after Bobby had commented earlier that, 'Gentlemen wore pants around Ladies they aren't married too'. Jo recalled trying to suppress her laughter when Dean waggled his eyebrows at her, and then cheekily responded that if he saw Sam, he would follow Bobby's instructions. He ended up receiving a wack to the back to the head, and a grumbled lecture on being a smartass.

"What are you doing?" Jo whispered, sitting up in bed. Dean continued to rummage through his duffle bag, tossing shirts and dirty socks on to the floor. A second later she saw a glint of silver, and he headed towards her.

"Scooch over," he hissed, crawling across Jo's bed. Lying on her side, she tried to give him as much room as she could spare on the single bed, and cast a glance over at Bobby. "Here," he handed her something small and white, and she realised it was a headphone cord.

"Dean Winchester, you own an ipod? What? Did your walkman break?" she teased, earning a light thump on her shoulder with the matching earpiece.

"Do you want to drown out Bobby or not?" he asked, warningly. When she smiled apologetically he stole her pillow and laid his head down. Jo watched him fascinated, his handsome face lit up by the little white screen. "Sam got me one for my birthday," he whispered in explanation, his fingers moving awkwardly over the controls. "Just don't tell him I'm using it, I told him I sold it for beer money."

"I'm not going to even bother asking why," Jo commented, and craned her neck so she could watch him scroll through the list of songs. He lifted it higher so she could see, and brought his head closer until she could feel his warm breath on her neck.

Her heart fluttered, and she focused on reading the list of song titles. She was smug about the fact that she recognised most of them as Metallica and ACDC songs, but there were a few she didn't recognise, and she was instantly curious to his music choices.

Dean continued to scroll through the long list of songs, and was about to close her eyes when she caught sight of a familiar song title. She snatched the ipod from him without thinking. "Hey-" Dean hissed, attempting to snatch the ipod back.

"You have REO Speedwagon on here!" she whispered excitedly.

"Shhh! You'll wake Bobby," he warned, his body now stretched over the top of her as he tried to capture her wrist. Jo shifted, suddenly hyper aware of Dean's close proximity. He seemed to sense the same thing, and they both glanced guiltily over at Bobby. She heard him huff irritated, and she lowered her arm so he could take the ipod back -- but not before hitting the play button. _'Can't fight this feeling'_ started to float through the earpiece, and she grinned at him as he retreated to lying back beside her. "Ugh," Dean grunted. "Sam must of put that on there."

"Liar," Jo whispered nudging his shoulder. "You secretly heart Kevin Cronin."

"Yeah, and I totally dream of growing a mullet too," he grunted, continuing to scroll through the song list. "You get one song choice - that's it."

"Thank you," she whispered, and without thinking she leant forward and kissed his cheek softly. When she pulled back he was staring at her. Suddenly feeling self conscious, Jo lowered her head to the pillow and closed her eyes. She held her breath, cursing herself for being so impulsive. The mattress dipped. She opened one eye surprised, and realised he had shuffled closer to her, dominating the majority of the bed. His arm slung lazily over her waist, and his fingers found purchase on the small of her back.

Delighted, Jo tried to catch his eye, but he was concentrating on setting the alarm on the ipod for 5am. He looked up, sensing her gaze and she raised an eyebrow at him.

"If Bobby catches us, I want you to know that I am prepared to use you as a human shield," he explained. Jo smirked, and hit his chest lightly. He pulled her closer in response, slipping a leg between hers until they where both comfortable in their new position. She forced herself to keep her mouth closed for fear of releasing a content purr. Jo had never felt so at peace and comfortable in her life. "Go to sleep, you REO loving freak."

"You first, princess," she retorted ducking her head under his chin, until her forehead rested against his chest. He laid the ipod down above their heads, and tucked her earpiece in tighter as Bobby's snores continued to reverberate around the room.

A second later she tried not to moan with pleasure when his fingers slipped under her tank top and began to softly stroke the skin there. Lulled by the sweetness of his actions, and the familiar cords of REO Speedwagon, Jo fell into a deep sleep.

***

Bobby awoke in the middle of the night with a dry throat, and a desperate need to use the bathroom. Tossing the blankets aside, he crept into the bathroom, and shut it behind him gently.

Several minutes and a glass of water later, he turned the bathroom light off, and hovered by the doorway until his eyes adjusted to the darkness. As his pupils dilated his ears picked up the far off beats of music. Intrigued, Bobby crept across the room to Jo's bed and stopped short.

Hands on hips, Bobby inspected the sleeping couple in front of him. Dean lay on his back, his arm curled around Jo protectively while she was nestled in the crook of his arm, her hand resting on his chest. The music Bobby had heard earlier increased in volume as Dean shifted in his sleep, the white cable between them tightening until the earpiece dislodged itself from Jo's ear. Dean shifted again, his face screwing up in reaction to a dream (or a nightmare, Bobby suspected), and his eyes rapidly skittered back and forth under his eyelids. Bobby considered waking him, until Jo's hand slipped across Dean's chest and rested against his shoulder.

Bobby watched intrigued as Dean's body instantly relaxed. His eyes stopped moving, and a look of peace flooded across his young features. Jo adjusted her position slightly, her head nuzzling into his chest until she found a comfortable spot. Dean reacted to her movements by pulling her closer, his right hand disappearing under her tank top.

Resisting the urge to kick Dean's side of the bed to scare the crap out of the young hunter for his wandering hands, Bobby shook his head, and turned back to his bed. Keeping an eye on the young couple, Bobby crossed his arms behind his head, and began to muse over what this new development could mean for the two idgits.

***

It was 6am when an annoying prodding sensation dragged Dean from the depths of a blissful dream involving fishing by a tranquil lake with a bikini clad Jo sunbathing beside him. He frowned, not ready to open his eyes yet, and tried to shift away from the consistent jabbing in the side of his stomach. All was quiet, and he was about to fall back into the warm arms of sleep when the hunter side of his brain reminded him sharply that his alarm clock had never sounded.

Frowning, he sat up slowly while rubbing sleep out of his eyelashes. Dean licked his dry lips and looked down at Jo curled up beside him. She looked so young and innocent in sleep that he couldn't help but smile – and then promptly cry out in surprise while tumbling out of bed in shock.

A mess of sheets and limbs, Dean quickly perched on his knees, and gazed at the now obvious mass protruding out from under Jo's tank top. He stared open mouthed at Jo's swollen stomach.

Bobby cleared his throat.

"So is this is the part where you explain to me how you managed to put a bun in Jo's oven seemingly overnight?"

Dean's head snapped towards Bobby. The older hunter sat perched at the table by the door fully dressed, and circled by a series of textbooks, notepads and a coffee cup.

Jo mewed in her sleep, her hand scratching at the scar on her stomach. Her free hand dragged the twisted sheets around her, and she mumbled something unintelligible before settling back down. Dean arose from the floor on shaky feet. "I… um… we… it's not…"

"You're going to have to do better then that, son." Bobby remarked, and encouraged Dean to sit in the chair in front of him. "Judging by the deer-in-headlights look, I'm thinking that you and me need to have a serious talk."

Without tearing his eyes away from Jo, Dean stumbled towards the table and collapsed into the chair. When he finally looked at Bobby, he saw the last traces of a smile, before the man schooled his face into a serious business like expression.

"You're not going to shoot me, are you?" Dean asked warily. He could barely bring himself to look his pseudos father figure in the eyes.

Bobby shrugged. "Depends on what you have to say next." When Dean didn't respond to his joke, he leant back in his chair. "Dean, I can't help you unless you tell me everything - and I need to know _everything_. This doesn't look like your normal case of stop and play."

Dean ducked his head embarrassed. He knew there was no way he could deny what had happened any longer. As Dean weighed up the pro's and con's of telling Bobby the truth, Jo rolled over. A small ray of sunlight escaped the thick blinds, and drenched the young woman with a soft yellow glow. Something shifted in Dean's chest, surprising him with a feeling of utter intoxication.

Everything suddenly clicked into place.

With a final glance at Jo sleeping peacefully in bed, he turned to Bobby with a determined look, and confessed to everything that had happened over the last couple of days. He explained what had happened in the cabin, and his participation in the events that followed, and he concluded with what Castiel had told them the day before.

"Dammit, Dean. You don't do anything in halves do you?" Bobby finally responded after Dean finished talking. "Is there anything else you forgot to mention, because I'm pretty sure you can't top the whole baby with wings story?"

"It's not a story, Bobby," Dean corrected, looking slightly annoyed. "Do you think I would seriously make something like this up?"

Bobby held up his hand to still the offended Winchester. "Relax, son. I was just making sure you didn't have any other startling revelations." The older man scrubbed a hand over his face. "I can't believe you didn't tell me this last night. I wouldn't have gone off so badly at Jo if I knew what was going on."

"Hey, it's not like you're big on sharing and caring," Dean reminded him. "Jo told me all about you and Ellen." Bobby's eyes widened slightly and Dean nodded. "Yeah that's right. I come back from hell and you never once hinted that you had eyes for the scariest woman on earth."

"Watch your mouth," Bobby protested, giving him a warning look. "That's your future mother in law you're talking about, and if I were you I would start building some shotgun proof armour before her spider-senses pick up on what you've done to her only daughter."

"With how loud the two of your are gossiping - I'm surprised she hasn't overheard you already." A tired voice floated from the bed across the room.

The two men looked up surprised to see Jo sitting up in bed yawning. She stretched her arms over her head, and let out a tired moan.

"Feeling alright there, Jo?" Bobby asked, humour evident in his voice.

"Yeah, why?" Jo asked confused, and threw her legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. Dean spotted the exact moment she became aware of the new developments to her body because her eyes widened. Her hands fell to her stomach, and she ran an experimental palm over the swelling gently. "Woah, how long was I asleep for?"

Dean shook his head incredulously, and was about to ask her to join them, when her brown eyes suddenly narrowed, and she quickly sat back down on the bed. "Oh."

"What's wrong?" Dean inquired standing up and glancing around suspiciously. He sniffed the air, searching the room for a sign of sulphur.

"Nothing," Jo assured him, and waved him over. "He kicked me." She frowned again, her hand rubbing over her stomach. "It's the weirdest feeling in the world." Without warning, she grasped Dean's hand, and pressed it against the bottom of her abdomen. "Can you feel that? It's really small."

He waited patiently, his fingers tingling curiously against her silky skin. He looked at her for a sign, but her eyes were closed. Jo sucked in a deep breath, and released it slowly.

Nothing happened.

Dean was about to pull his hand away when he felt a light brushing against his palm. He cocked his head to the side, and grinned when she nodded with confirmation. He pressed against her stomach harder and felt a firm jab against his fingers in response to the pressure. Dean suddenly pulled his hand back with realisation. "That's what that feeling was! I woke up this morning because I thought you were poking me in the stomach – but it must have been junior giving me a wake up call."

Jo's face spilt in a half with the biggest smile Dean had ever seen, and he knew he'd do anything in the world to see that smile directed at him again. He looked over at Bobby, who was hovering in front of Jo looking unsure.

Jo glanced between Dean and Bobby. "Did Dean get to the part where he told you it was a 'he' yet?"

Bobby nodded, and cast a bemused looked at Dean. "Yes, and I can't tell you how thrilled I am that we have yet another male Winchester on our hands. He'll probably drive me just as nuts as his father does."

Dean ignored his comment and ran his hand gently over Jo's stomach again. A softer flutter of movement brushed against his palm and he grinned. "You should feel it Bobby - it's cool."

"No, that's Ok-"

Dean grabbed Bobby's wrist before he could put up a decent protest, and pushed his rough palm up against Jo's soft stomach. Bobby shot him a disgruntled look, while Jo took a deep breath, and waited for the baby to kick again.

After a few minutes of nothing, Bobby started to pull his hand back looking disappointed. "Maybe he's gone back to-" Jo pressed his hand tighter against her stomach, and he gasped.

Dean grinned proudly when the older man's eyes softened.

"Weird, huh?" Jo said, looking up at Dean. She beamed at his boastful expression. "So," she interrupted. Bobby withdrew his hand, and stood back to observe Jo with a wistful look in his eyes. Dean patted the hunter on the back. "Now that show and tell is done - I'm starving. Which one of you two are gonna buy me breakfast?"

"Let the pregnancy hormones begin!" Dean declared, with a shake of his head.

"Nah, she's always been that bossy," Bobby quipped, walking over the table to grab his car keys. "I'll go organise breakfast. What do you two feel like?"

"Um, everything and anything." Jo offered up hopefully.

Dean nodded eagerly. "Dito."

Bobby grimaced. "Great," he turned to Dean. "It looks like the kid has inherited you obsession for food. No doubt you'll have that kid trained on how to change the oil in the Impala, and reciting all the lyrics to AC/DC before he's five years old."

Dean gave him a wicked grin. "What can I say? Our kids gonna have style." Bobby rolled his eyes and headed outside. He turned to Jo. "I'll be right back."

Jo shrugged, and went off to the bathroom. Dean quickly opened the door and called out after Bobby.

Bobby was already sitting in his car, and he wound his window down when he spotted Dean hurrying towards him. "Don't tell me she already wants pickles or something weird does she?"

Dean shook his head, looking down awkwardly at his bare feet. "No. Um. I just wanted to say…" He shrugged and picked at a tiny piece of paint peeling away from the hood of the car. "You know…about everything… Thanks."

Bobby shook his head, and waved his off. "No need to get all emotional, boy. What was I going to do? Leave you two idgits to save humanity by yourself?" He snorted. "Unlikely. Now get your butt inside before I change my mind and give Ellen a phone call."

Dean's face fell, and he stood up straighter. "You wouldn't," he said aghast. He crossed his legs subconsciously.

"I will if you don't do everything humanly and supernaturally possible in your power to look after those two."

Dean nodded. "Of course. It goes without saying."

"Good – that's all I care about." Bobby pointed to the door. "Go on. Get."

"Okay, Okay. I'm going," Dean promised. "Shesh, everyone is always bossing me around." Bobby started the car and reversed out of the car space while Dean opened the motel door and slipped back inside. The shower was running. Picking up his bag from the floor he started sorting through everything to find a clean pair of pants and a t-shirt.

Remembering his ipod, he went and picked it up from the floor beside the bed, and tucked it back into an odd sock. Shoving it to the bottom of the bag, he tossed his bag on the floor and threw himself onto his bed and used the remote to turn on the TV.

"Let's see what's going on in the world today."

***

"Thanks for that Charlie, according to local Geologist David Williams, the increase of greenhouses has been a direct influence in today's horrifying landslide. David is on stand bye with us Live from the ground zero – tell us David, what do you think could have been done to prevent this tragic natural disaster…"

The bushy haired man, with thick-rimmed glasses, started to share his concerns for global warming on the worn TV set while the hunters sat around the table eating their dinner in silence.

After a long day of convincing Bobby not to drag her to the nearest hospital for an ultra sound, Jo was attempting to read the local newspaper in between watching the news forecast.

Dean, who had been unusually quiet all evening, continued to gaze unseeingly at the wallpaper behind Bobby's head, while nosily munching on the rest of his burger. Jo looked up from her disgustingly limp salad, and quickly speared one of Dean's fries before he had a chance to devour them all.

"Drink." Bobby pushed a water bottle towards her without lifting his eyes from the pregnancy book he had been studying all evening. Jo frowned. Bobby hadn't let her touch a scrap of junk food all day, and her stomach growled with impatience. She didn't want healthy food or eight glasses of water. What she wanted was a juicy, fat, greasy hamburger and a large sugary soda. And some pie.

Depressed, she attempted to steal another one of Dean's fries, but he dragged them out of her reach. "This tastes like cardboard," she complained, and dumped the bowl of salad on the table. "Tell me you brought back some real food for me to eat."

"That is real food," Bobby admonished. "It's good for you and the baby."

"But the _baby_ and I both want a hamburger. And some pie… ooh and peanut butter."

"Ew," Dean commented, changing the channel on the TV. He went through six different channels, all reporting on the landslide, before he settled on 'Sponge-Bob Square Pants'. Jo rolled her eyes.

"Please Bobby," Jo attempted to reason with the older hunter. "I'll go nuts eating this rabbit food. I need some meat and decent carbs."

"Forget it, Jo. No more processed fast foods for you - which reminds me. We need to pick up some vitamins for you tomorrow."

Jo looked pleadingly at Dean for help. He shrugged nonchalantly, draining the rest of his soda happily. "Sucks to be you."

Jo glared at him, tossing her napkin at his face. "Whatever, I'm going to go have a shower."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "That's the third one today. Are you trying to use the entire states reserve of water in one day?"

"Ha, ha so funny." Jo snapped, flicking him in the back of his head. "My muscles keep cramping like a bitch, and the hot water helps. So unless you feel like being pregnant, Dean… keep your opinions to yourself." She slammed the bathroom door behind her.

"She's like a friggin roller coaster today, Bobby, I swear." Jo heard Dean complain. Muttering under her breath, Jo started the shower. As soon as the water was at full strength, she pulled out her hidden candy bar that she had swiped from Dean's bag. Using a towel to muffle the squeak of plastic, she opened the wrapper, and took a quick bite. Jo closed her eyes as the blissful taste washed through her, and was careful to repress the delighted moan bubbling inside her throat.

It was delicious, and much better than the ridiculous amount of lettuce and fruit Bobby had been plying her with all day. Jo felt the baby shift inside of her and patted her stomach gently. She knew he was pleased by her sneaky ploy.

"Jo?"

There was a pounding on the door, and Jo quickly hid the candy bar under her towel. She huddled behind the door. "I'm naked," Jo called out. She quickly took her top off, and started to wiggle out of her pants. The bathroom door opened, and Dean entered the bathroom. "Hey, if you think-"

"We gotta go." Dean interrupted her, his face serious. Jo noted the gun in his hand. "Get dressed. Quickly," He ordered, picking up her discarded shirt, and handing it to her.

"What?" she exclaimed, dragging her pants back on. "Why?"

"Demons. They've surrounded the motel."

Jo frowned. She sniffed the air, trying to detect any signs of sulphur "Are you sure? I can't smell anything."

Dean nodded, reaching inside the shower and turning the water on stronger. He took one of the motel towels and plugged the drain hole. "Positive. Bobby went to get some ice, and he noticed two of 'em sitting in a van across the street. He's gone to distract them so we can make a run for it."

Water was now spilling on the bathroom floor. Dean pulled out a rosary bead necklace and started to bless the water flowing over the floor. When he was done, he draped the necklace over the water faucet.

He turned and exited the bathroom. Jo followed him, spotting their bags already sitting packed by the door. Dean handed her a gun. "Wait, Dean." Jo pleaded, grasping his arm. "What about Castiel?"

"What about Castiel?" Dean snapped, his green eyes furious. She knew his anger wasn't directed at her, he was just worried about their safety.

Jo tightened her hand around his arm. "Dean, he warned us to stay here until he told us it was safe."

"I don't need a pigeon courier to tell me we are in over our heads here." He retorted hotly. "Are you ready?"

"Where are we going to go?"

"Somewhere safe."

"And where is that again?" Jo asked sarcastically. "And how are we going to avoid the demons on the road? What about Bobby? What if the demons catch him? What if-"

"Jo, I swear I'll gag you if you keep asking so many questions. Now are you ready?"

She frowned at him offended. "I'm always ready," she snapped. Dean rolled his eyes. Peeling the curtain aside slightly, her peered through the gap and surveyed the car park.

"Shit."

"What?" Jo tried to see over his shoulder, but he pushed her away from the window and snapped the curtains back in place.

"Civilians," he murmured, looking around the room. "They all must be returning from that convention. Come on." Without another word, Dean grabbed her hand, and dragged her back into the bathroom. He walked over to the toilet, and after dropping the lid down, he stood on top of it so he could open the window. With the heel of his palm, he punched the fly screen out and stuck his head outside to inspect how far down the drop was.

Outside they heard shots being fired repeatedly, followed by hysterical screaming. Dean looked back at their motel room. They heard the motel owner calling out their names as he knocked franticly on the door. "Dean-" Jo whispered, her gun pointed at the door.

"Don't worry about them now. Come on, Jo. I'll help you."

Jo gave him an uncertain look. She glanced back at the door – wondering why the demons hadn't cracked it open yet. With a worried frown, she stepped on top of the toilet. Dean shuffled over to give her room, and held out his hand to pull her up. "It's alright," she insisted hooking one leg outside the window. "I can do it," she told him, and tucked her gun in her bra.

"Okay. Now listen to me." Dean's face was a mask of calm, but Jo could see the layer of fear hiding in his eyes. "I want you to wait here, and as soon as you hear a car honk I want you to run as fast as you can around the side of the building," Dean instructed, pointing to the dark end of the building.

"What about you?" Jo questioned, turning to him.

"Don't worry about me. Remember, don't start running until you hear the horn."

"Dean-" Jo pleaded.

"Go." He insisted pushing at her arm gently. Jo gave him a final desperate look before ducking her head, and climbing the rest of the way out of the bathroom. She landed on her feet with a light thump, and when she looked up Dean had already slid the bathroom window back in place.

More shouts echoed at the opposite end of the building, and Jo retreated into the dark woods behind the motel. She waited, gun pressed to her side, and listened intently. She heard Dean's shouts, and the sound of a grenade being let off.

Red and yellow flames lapped at the inky night sky. A now familiar tingling sensation flittered through her stomach, and Jo ran her hand soothingly over the baby bump. The sensation did not subside, but Jo was thankful the pain was not as intense as it normally was. "Come on, Dean. Come on."

She took a few hesitant steps towards the end of the building when the bathroom light flickered. Pain seized her abdomen, forcing her to take shallow breaths until she could adapt the twinges in her muscles. Jo held her breathe when she heard shouting inside the room she had just exited.

"I can't get through! But she's not here! Spread out!" A gruff male voice shouted.

Jo slunk backwards into the woods, careful to avoid stepping on patches of twigs. She heard similar shouts to find her location around the side of the building. Heart pounding, throat painfully dry, Jo waited impatiently for the car horn to sound.

Two dark figures rounded the side of the building, striding towards her from the same direction Dean had told her to run to. Jo slipped behind a large tree trunk, and ignored the pins and needles sensation in her already cramped legs.

"I see her! Over by the tree!"

Swearing, Jo quickly ducked out from behind the tree, and headed in the exact opposite direction Dean had told her to run to. She could detect the sound of their feet thumping along the ground as they sprinted towards her.

"SAM, NO! STOP!"

Fear prickled her heart at the sound of Dean's distressed cry. Jo glanced over her shoulder, and saw the demon's gaining on her. With a burst of energy she rounded the side of the motel.

Everything happened at once.

Jo spotted Dean firing madly at the three demons that where charging towards him. Sam was behind them, his arm outstretched, blood running down the side of his face. Bobby was wrestling a red headed female to the ground, a knife at her neck.

"Get her!"

Jo turned just as the two demon's chasing her made to lunge at her. She raised her fist; ready to beat them back. A black shadow screamed in front of her, and the demons disappeared.

The sound of crunching bones, and squealing tyres helped Jo decipher that the two demons had been ploughed into by a large black SUV. Behind the wheel of the car was none other than Ruby.

"Sam, stop!" Dean shouted.

Jo turned towards the eldest Winchester in time to see Sam smile and curl his fingers into a fist. Suddenly, the three demon's attacking Dean halted and collapsed onto the ground with a scream. A split second later, black smoke emptied from their collective lungs, and spewed across the car park. Sam collapsed to the ground, his arm out stretched towards his brother.

"Jo, look out!"

Ice-cold hands wrapped themselves around her throat, and Jo bucked as the demon tried to wrench her backwards. She heard the sound of feet dashing across the pavement, and glimpsed Dean abandoning Sam's side to run towards her.

"Get off me!" Jo gasped out, and kicked wildly. She felt the hands around her neck loosen instantly, and she quickly pivoted, and landed a punch to the demon's bearded face. The demon went flying backwards, but another demon replaced him by throwing itself at her, and knocking her off her feet.

Jo grunted as her head connected with the ground, her vision dancing erratically. Her stomach burned with pain, and she curled into a foetal position in response. Cold fingers closed around her ankles and Jo screamed as she was yanked backwards. Throwing her hands out lamely, she clawed at the ground in an attempt to resist her attacker dragging her away.

"Jo! No! JO!" Dean opened fire, and Jo's attacker pulled harder on her legs. Jo howled, and franticly rolled onto her back to protect her stomach. The demon, a towering black haired man with an enormous beer belly, was abruptly forced to drop her legs when a silver blade imbedded itself in his throat.

Ruby shoved the dead demon aside roughly, and turned to slash the throat of the next demon that tried to make a grab for Jo. When he fell to his knees, Ruby turned towards her. She extended a bloody hand towards Jo. "Come on!" She shouted insistently.

Jo hesitated, her stomach riddled with flames of agony. More gunfire rippled over her head and Jo reached out to accept Ruby's hand reluctantly. As her fingers wetly closed over Ruby's, a fist came out of nowhere and punched Jo in the side of the face.

She fell backwards, her head hitting the ground with a sickening crack. As Jo slipped unwillingly into unconsciousness she heard a deep voice call out, "Well done, Ruby. Your plan worked perfectly."

* * *

Thoughts? Questions? Threats? :D


	17. Chapter 17

**Rating: **M

**A/N: **Big thank you to everyone who has reviewed and sent me notes of encouragement. You guys kick ass! I'd like to dedicate this chapter to 'Dimitra' who celebrated a birthday this week - hope you ended up having an awesome day.

I hope you all enjoy this next chapter, and I hope it answers the questions you had from the last chapter. :D

* * *

'**Upside Down'**

Castiel strode quickly, and purposefully down the long dark tunnel. His gentle footfalls barely made a sound over the roaring waterfall behind him. Despite having walked through the solid mass of water, his body showed no signs of being soaked or unsettled.

The tunnel veered left, and he merged with the darkness. If he had not been a frequent visitor to the alcove he may have tripped and fallen in the darkness. So it was with a confident hand that he dragged his fingers across the rocky surface, until they found the old engravings in the stone. He pressed his hand against the symbols and the room came to life.

Resembling a star drenched sky; tiny shards of light glittered and cast intricate beams of light across the ceiling. The effect was breathtaking, and Castiel remained consistently entranced by the effect despite having designed the alcove himself. While a human eye could only detect small points of light Castiel knew for a fact that the points of light actually formed a series of strange symbols.

The sigils purpose was designed to make any position of his choice invisible to any other creature, Angel or demon. Only two beings were in possession of this particular ward. The Archangel Michael was one of them.

Castiel allowed himself to take comfort in the tranquillity for a split second before resuming his task. Towards the far right side of the alcove, three shelves carved out of the rock wall held three distinct golden chests. He positioned himself in front of the first chest, and waved his hand over the symbols engraved in the lid of the chest. The chests hinges glowed metallic blue momentarily. With a simple click the chest opened.

Reaching into his trench coat, Castiel produced a small glass vial the size of his index finger, and unscrewed the tiny cap. Inside the chest was a smaller, plain gold box. He opened the heavy box and held his breath. There was very little frankincense left, and he was surprised the oil had survived the test of time after he had rescued it from the tomb of a greedy roman priest.

Careful not to disturb the oil too much, he lowered the vial inside and took a small sample of the oil. Sealing the cap on the vial, he dragged his thumb over the vial. Instantly the glass resembled the same mess of symbols that the box reflected.

Resealing the chest, Castiel was about to turn away when he heard a sharp whistle. He frowned, confused by the source of the noise, until he realised the sound was inside his head. The whistle, which sounded akin to a distressed dolphin, continued to echo around his brain until he realised what it was.

"Anna!"

He hesitated, the vial still clutched in his hand. He needed to return to the human's side, there was so much to prepare them for… but his heart pulled in the opposite direction. The Angel frowned, shaking his head in an attempt to dislodge the indecision clouding his mind. The distressed whistling cut off abruptly, and he knew what he had to do.

Castiel fled the alcove, his instincts screaming that something was amiss. As soon as he emerged from the waterfall he took flight. He arrived promptly on the front lawn of a church, knee deep in snow and desperate for answers.

"Castiel?"

Castiel's eyes flashed towards the source of the whimper, and he was startled to find the familiar red head curled up in a patch of scarlet snow. Her arm was outstretched towards the church steps. "Anna?" His eyes widened as he took in her dishevelled appearance. "What is wrong? Are you hurt?"

"Castiel, you shouldn't have come…" Her voice was strangely vague, and he rushed to her side. She rolled onto her stomach, her red hair spilling over his lap. It was then he noticed the engraved knife in her shoulder.

"Who did this to you? Was it Uriel?" He shouted alarmed. He reached for the blade when Anna's voice rung out.

"Don't touch it! It's poisoned," she pleaded, her voice slightly muffled by the snow pressed against her face. Castiel quickly shrugged out of his trench coat and balled it up. Before Anna could protest he wrapped the coat around the knife's handle and drew the knife from her shoulder. Anna screamed, though her mouth remained sealed shut. Instead the same high pitched whistle reverberated inside his skull and made him gasp.

"Anna, I'm sorry. I had to remove it." Castiel rushed to comfort her. He tossed the offending knife into the snow and placed his coat against the wound. This time Anna gasped out loud and curled into herself.

"My wings…" she moaned. "They're damaged… the poison… I tried to warn you..."

"Shhh." Castiel whispered soothingly, and swept her hair aside so he could cup her face. "I will take you somewhere safe to be healed."

"Cas, listen to me," her watering eyes sought his desperately. "Our brothers and sisters are turning against one another… Our Father has disappeared… Everyone is scared… The Archangels have deserted the kingdom in search for God… Cadmiel-"

"Hello Brother."

Castiel felt the blood in his vessel grow cold at the sound of the voice behind him. He glanced down at Anna, but her eyes were shut. Turning around slowly, he greeted his heavenly sister. "Cadmiel."

"You should have heeded my warning."

Frowning, Castiel stood. "Your warning?"

"Don't act so puzzled. You know as well as I do that this was an obvious trap." Cadmiel craned her neck, peering at Anna's slumped body. "It's your constant meddling that resulted in her death. Not that I am entirely regretful. Anna constantly made my life difficult by refusing to follow orders."

"How could you murder your own kin?"

Cadmiel shrugged at Castiel's accusation. "You had no objections when Anna killed Uriel."

"He was working on evil's side!" Castiel retorted defensively.

"Who isn't these days?" Cadmiel replied, unconcerned. "The things I've seen 'good' do lately barely warrants such indignation from someone like you." She waved her hand towards the shadows and beckoned. Two Angels and six demons advanced towards Castiel. "Take him away."

Castiel made a desperate attempt to take flight, when a vengeful white light knocked him backwards into the snow. The light was so painfully bright he was forced to cover his face with his arm and cower until the light receded.

When all was clear, he opened his eyes and was mystified. He was alone. There were no sign of demons or Angels. Even Anna, whose blood still stained the snow where she had laid, was absent.

Castiel struggled to his feet confused.

***

Dean scrubbed his face with his palms, and tried to focus his tired eyes. A quick glance at his watch informed him that Sam and Ruby weren't expected to return for another ten minutes. He pulled the curtain back in place, being careful not to disturb the thick salt line.

Approaching the sole bed in the room, Dean bent down and quickly assessed Jo's condition. She remained in a deep sleep, having passed out with a moan hours earlier. Assured that there was nothing more he could do until she decided to wake up, Dean returned to the table by the door and plonked down in one of the chairs.

He hated waiting. A childhood of standing guard over his younger brother in a million different motel rooms left him with a constant restlessness deeply engraved in his bones. He lived for the gun slinging and the fighting for his life terror.

Eyes surveying the minimal contents of the hotel room, he paused on the tan leather poking out from inside Jo's duffle bag. Pushing himself to his feet, he sauntered over and pulled the book out. It was Jo's hunting journal.

It was locked. Feeling around for his wallet, Dean located his lock pick, and got to work on cracking open the journal. The lock gave away easily, and he began to flick through the pages with a trained eye. After perusing the first page he realised he was in for a rude awakening. Dean was no stranger to Jo's professionalism when putting together case files, but now he was left feeling embarrassed by his dad's own flawed journal.

The handwriting was neat, the supernatural beings in alphabetical order, the images perfectly cropped and glued – the damn thing even had a glossary and a colour coded map of America that folded out demonstrating demonic hotspots.

"Dean?"

His head snapped up guiltily from the page he was obsessively combing through (it was about crossroad demons), and he crossed the room. Careful not to jostle her too much, he perched on the mattress beside her. "Finally," he greeted, running a gentle hand over her forehead. He was careful to avoid the bandages on the side of her face. "You alright?"

"Yeah, never better," she moaned, her bandaged hand grazing the side of her face. She hissed with pain, and held her arm in front of eyes to inspect the damage.

"Gravel rash," he explained, gently tugging her curious hand away. "Luckily you were out cold when we scrubbed it clean. I'm sure it stings like a bitch right now."

"You're not wrong," she admitted. Despite his protests, she made to sit up, and Dean slipped his hand under her back to help her. Once she was sitting stiffly against the bed head, she inspected the rest of her body. An assortment of bandages covered her left side. "Damn, I look like one of those Egyptian mummies."

"You're lucky that's all you've got to complain about," Dean lectured half-heartedly. He propped a pillow behind her. She gave him an amused look, but shuffled backwards at his insistence. He noted the flicker of pain that washed through her eyes as a particular tender part of her skin came in contact with the pillow.

Dean had not been exaggerating when he told her she was lucky she had been out of it when they had patched her up. It had taken Dean and Bobby an hour and a half to scrub, tweeze and wash out any remaining rocks and dirt out of her skin. Most of it was superficial and would heal quickly, but it was while covered in her blood and antiseptic cream that Dean suddenly realised just how close he had come to losing her for good. By the time they had placed the last bandage on her face, Dean had been ready to pass out himself.

Jo's stomach, which appeared to have grown slightly over night, remained wound free. Dean had spent the last two hours frequently pressing his hand against her belly until he received an assuring kick from the baby. He could tell by the look of peace that currently fluttered over Jo's face that she was now doing the same thing. "He's been pretty active while you were out," he offered.

"What happened?" Jo touched her cheek gingerly. "I don't remember anything after I was knocked out."

"Demons cornered us. They tried to drag you into that van Bobby had spotted earlier. We fought 'em back though, and the ones that weren't dead took off. We grabbed you and bolted."

Jo nodded, surveying the small dark motel room. "Where are we? Where's Castiel?"

Dean grimaced. He knew that as soon as she woke up she'd start throwing a million questions at him. "We're a couple of hours out from Bobby's. You kept moaning in pain every time there was a bump in the road, so we decided to stop and let you rest a bit," Dean explained. "As for Cas, he appears to have called in sick. I haven't heard a word from him or any other Angels for that matter."

"But Castiel told us to wait for him. What if he's in Fort Collins waiting for us?"

"Jo, we were ambushed. If we had stayed not only would we be putting you in danger, but all the residents in the area." Dean argued. "Bobby wasn't going to take no for an answer, and I agree with him. His place is the safest place right now, and I'm sure Castiel will have no problem tracking us down."

Jo nodded, her eyes blinking at him tiredly. He knew she wasn't going to argue any further. "Where is Bobby anyway?"

"He'll be back soon," Dean replied, and let out a long yawn. Smacking his lips together, he tilted his neck and cracked it. "So, apart from the gravel rash - how do you feel? Any stomach pains or morning sickness?"

Jo shook her head, her hand gliding over her stomach subconsciously. "I feel ok," she told him honestly. "I'm just a bit out of it. I'll be fine after some juice or something."

Dean nodded, his shoulders slumping with relief. "Good. Ok. Well Bobby said he'd pick you some stuff up on the way back, so it wont be long. Then we'll hit the road again. Do you want a glass of water in the mean time? I think I saw a cup around here somewhere-"

"Dean." He deliberately avoided her curious eyes until he felt her hand on his face. She pulled him by the chin. "Are you ok?" she asked with a gentle tone.

He nodded, and pulled his face free from her fingers. "I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be? You're the one who got dragged across the…," he paused and scratched the back of his head. "Whatever. It doesn't matter."

"Sure it does." Jo argued quietly, and surprised him by moving her non-bandaged hand to the back of his neck. She began to gently massage the taunt muscles, and like magic his body instantly responded to the soothing touch. Body slumping, he leant closer to her and ducked his head lower to allow her access to the rest of his neck. "I'm ok, Dean. We both are."

"I know." Dean mumbled his acknowledgement. After a few blissful minutes, he raised his head, but she kept her fingers gently stroking the back of his neck. "Hmmm," he moaned, closing his eyes. He was dangerously close to curling up beside her and allowing himself to finally sleep, but he knew it wasn't safe to do so yet. She needed him alert right now.

"Have you had any sleep?" she asked softly, as if reading his mind.

He shrugged, his eyes still closed. "I'll sleep later."

Her hands stilled their movements. "Dean-"

Dean's eyes opened and he sat up straight. "It's fine. Trust me. I'm not even that tired."

Jo stared at him unconvinced, and he grinned. She could see straight through his bullshit, and the information that she understood him only served to fill him with strength rather than fear. Dean wondered idly if this was how his little brother felt when he moved in with his girlfriend, Jess. At the time Dean had thought his brother was insane (or pussy whipped), but now… now Dean understood exactly why Sam's whole world turned to ash when Jess was murdered.

"We're back!"

Dean glanced over his shoulder, and spotted Ruby and Sam entering the motel room laden with coffees, and a box of doughnuts. As soon as Ruby had crossed the threshold, Sam replaced the salt line he had just kicked open to allow Ruby access. Dean barely acknowledged Sam as his brother handed him a hot cup of coffee. He turned back to Jo… only the discover the bed was alarmingly empty.

"Ow, that's fucking hot!" Ruby hollered when Jo smacked the tray of coffee's into Ruby's face. Before either Winchester could react, Jo shoved the brunette haired demon up against the wall.

"You!" Jo snarled, wrapping one hand around the demon's neck. Ruby kicked wildly, helpless against the strength in the blonde's grip. "I should have killed you when I had the chance."

"Jo, stop!" Sam ran towards the two females, and reached for Jo's arm. "Don't hurt her!" Jo ignored his plea, extending her free hand to shove the tall Winchester backwards. Dean's eyebrows shot to his hairline when his brother flew back effortlessly onto the floor beside him.

Jo lifted Ruby higher up the wall. The brunette's hands flew to Jo's firm arm, and she thrashed about trying to escape the other female's death grip. "I was trying to help you!" Ruby chocked out.

"Like hell you were, you lead them to us," Jo shouted, her brown eyes filled with hatred and disgust. "I heard them congratulate you, you manipulative bitch."

"You're wrong, I-" The demon was cut off mid sentence when Jo dug her fingernails into Ruby's throat. "Sam…help!"

Sam, who had finally managed to get to his feet, cast a pleading look at his older brother. Dean hadn't moved from his shocked position. "Dean," Sam snapped, trying to gain his attention. "A little help here."

"No, I'm good here." Dean replied, and finally moved to sit back on the edge of the bed. His eyes never strayed from Jo. "Pass me a doughnut would you?" He took a large gulp of his coffee.

Sam let out an exasperated sight, and made for Jo again - albeit a little bit more cautiously. "Jo, please put her down. Ruby is good. I swear we came to help you - not hurt you. Ruby killed a whole bunch of demon's trying to protect you and the baby."

Jo froze, her head snapping towards Sam.

Dean lowered his coffee in surprise. Jo briefly caught his eye, and he stood up to stand beside her. "How do you know about the baby?" he asked his brother.

Sam glanced at Ruby, who continued to struggle under Jo's vice like grip. "Prophecy," Ruby panted around Jo's fingers. "Overheard the demons talking about tracking you… plus superman strength… crushing my throat."

"What do you know about the prophecy?" Jo interrogated, shoving the demon against the wall harder. Sam cried out in protest, but Jo ignored him.

"The kid… you're carrying…" Ruby replied, her eyes darting to Sam seeking support. "It's juiced up with Angel powers…"

"How did you find out?" Dean questioned, a headache started to form behind his eyes. This was the last thing they needed – no doubt the entire demon world was after them now.

"Heard it through the grapevine," Ruby wheezed. Jo slammed the demon's head into the wall again. Bits of plaster cracked under the force, and Dean knew Bobby would be pissed that they had trashed yet another motel room.

Dean sipped his coffee. He knew he should probably be cautioning Jo against straining herself after what had happened back in Fort Collins, but if he was honest - he had never been more proud (or turned on) in his life. Jo was kicking the demons ass without breaking a sweat.

"Tell me the truth, or I'll snap your neck right now," Jo continued, unimpressed by Ruby's vague answer.

"Okay…Most of it are… rumours, gossip, but then a little birdy told…" Jo intensified her grip. "Fucking ow!.. ok…ok!" Ruby huffed and wiggled, trying to stretch her neck away from Jo's thumb. Jo gave her a meaningful look, and the demon stopped squirming. "A demon close to Lilith's entourage told me, OK?"

"Jo - please let her go. She can't tell you anything if you kill her." Sam pleaded, ever the peacemaker, and shot a glare at Dean. "Dean, do something. Jo's gonna kill her."

"What do you want me to do, Sam?" Dean argued, finishing his coffee and tossing it on the table. "Jo is doing everything short of shooting her - which is something I'm considering doing myself, because I distinctly remember ordering you not to come looking for me."

"I don't need a gun," Jo grunted in response to Dean's argument. "I don't care what you say. She's a demon and demon's lie."

"She's got a point," Dean agreed nonchalantly, shrugging at Sam. "I told you she'd be pissed when she woke up and saw Ruby here. Not that I can blame her."

"Dean-" Sam protested, and Dean suspected his brother was about to have a hissy fit of his own. Instead his younger brother frowned with disapproval, and turned back to the two females. "Jo, come on. Please, let her go. She saved your life from those two demons. Ruby found out you were going to be attacked, and we've been trying to catch up with you guys all this time."

"Yeah, I'm sure she's a regular saint, but I know what I heard. She was in on it." Jo retorted angrily, her eyes never leaving Ruby's face. "That was some timing by the way, very convenient for you that I got KO in the face so that no one knew you were trying to lure me away."

"You're nuts…" Ruby exclaimed fiercely, promptly receiving a slap across the face from Jo. Sam flinched, while Dean grinned smugly. "Ow!… Fuck…I was _trying_ to help you!" Ruby grunted, cowering against the wall. "Sam… tell her!"

"Dean, please! You saw what happened." Sam begged, serving Dean his best pleading puppy dog eyes.

Dean groaned. His conscious started to return with annoying speed, and he knew his brother was right. When Jo had been knocked out by another Demon, Ruby had gone on a rampage and killed the remaining demons trying to attack Jo. A few seconds later Bobby had wrestled a persistent demon off Dean, and they had finally made it to Jo's side to find Ruby cradling the blonde in her arms and calling for help.

"Sam, you owe me." He sighed irritated. Jo looked over at Dean surprised by his submission. He knew Jo was going to think he was taking his brother's side over hers. "Alright!" he shouted, suddenly furious at being forced into a corner. "Jo… kill her, don't kill her," he remarked, touching her shoulder. "Either way I don't really care - but Bobby will be pissed if we spill demon blood on the floor, and Sam will probably never stop whining at me." When Jo didn't look convinced, he ran a soft hand over her exposed belly. "And you probably shouldn't be straining yourself, remember?"

Jo remained silent for a few moments, considering his words. "Dean, I heard what that demon said – they said 'Ruby, you're plan worked perfectly'."

"They did not!" Ruby cried out, earning herself additional pressure from Jo's fingernails. "I swear they didn't!... you guys were there! You saw what happened."

Dean exchanged a concerned glance with his younger brother. Sam shook his head determined. "Are you sure you heard them correctly, Jo? I mean you did get punched in the face." Sam pointed out gently.

Jo glowered at the younger Winchester. Dean cleared his throat. "Sam's right – you did get hit pretty hard, and I didn't see the demons say anything to Ruby before she killed them." Brow creased, Jo seemed to consider their words. A second later she shoved Ruby back into the wall and released her grip. Ruby slid to the floor untidily, coughing and rubbing her neck. "Thanks," Ruby mumbled, glancing up at Dean.

"Don't thank me - if your eyes so much as flicker at her in the wrong way I'll hold you down myself while Jo has a field day," Dean threatened, his jaw set determinedly. He turned to Jo, and placed a hand on the small of her back so he could gently guide her back to the bed. "Take a load off, Rocky," he joked as Jo sat down.

"Dean-" Sam chided. He turned to Ruby, and held out his hand to help her up. "Are you ok?"

Ruby nodded, casting a nervous glance at Jo. She ignored Sam's hand, and used the wall to pull herself to her feet. "I'm fine. Lucky for me your nephew isn't full term yet," she rasped out.

Sam's eyes narrowed. "Nephew?" He looked over at Dean dumbfounded. Dean looked up from inspecting the bandage on Jo's hand. "Wait… Ruby you said… you didn't say it was _Dean's_ baby he was protecting."

Ruby shrugged, her fingers still gently propping her neck. "Didn't I?"

"No. You didn't." Sam's eyes narrowed on Dean. "I think I'd remember something as important as that." Dean grinned amused while Sam's eyes took in Jo and her swollen stomach in a new light. The blonde hunter in question was still eyeing Ruby's every movement with a predatory eye.

"So," Sam finally spoke up, having digested the new information. "You and Jo, huh?" He raised his eyebrow, and a small smile tugged at his lips. "Ellen is so going to kill you."

Dean's face fell, and he frowned at his brothers' statement. "Yeah, I know right?"

The motel door swung open.

"Well that's the cops sorted," Bobby announced walking into the room dressed in a charcoal business suit. He tossed his fake FBI badge on the table. Upon noticing the cracked plaster beside Ruby, he frowned. "What happened?"

"Nothing. Jo's awake." Dean spoke up, trying to distract the older hunter from the tension in the air. "So everything is sorted with the cops from Fort Collins?"

"Yup. You lot are all in the clear." Bobby noticed the puddle of coffee on the floor. Ruby bent to quickly scoop them up. The older hunter turned back to Dean, and reached into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a bottle of vitamins and tossed them at Dean. "Make sure Jo takes one twice a day."

"Why? Where are you going?" Dean asked perplexed.

"To the roadhouse."

"What? Why?" Jo cried panicked, standing up too quickly. She crashed into Dean's side slightly, and he wrapped an arm around her waist to steady her. Stubbornly, she pushed him away and stepped towards Bobby. "You can't tell her! I told you Bobby – it'll get her killed."

"Relax." Bobby insisted, sitting down on the chair by the window. "Ernie said she was growing suspicious as to why I've been gone so long. So I'm going to head over there and keep her busy so that you two can hide out at my place."

"Oh great plan! Why don't you just put a big frickin' neon sign above your house that says 'All you can eat hunter buffet'?" Ruby grunted sarcastically. "They all know that is where you would go next to hide."

"Are you implying that she's safer elsewhere with you?" Bobby snapped, giving Ruby a deadly look.

"Should have let me kill her," Jo whispered to Dean.

Dean grinned and pattered her on the shoulder. "Easy there, Fido."

"Listen here Captain Obvious, this isn't our first roller coaster ride. My house is the safest place for Jo and the baby right now. They have tried the hiding thing, and that didn't work. Now it's time to try it our way. I've got the bunker, and Jo's got a copy of a new demon repellent, so we are going to hold the fort there." He paused, glaring at Sam and Ruby. "So unless you two girl scouts have any other better ideas?"

"No, I think your place is a good idea." Sam hurriedly agreed, and shot a glance a Dean. "We'll help protect Jo and the baby."

Bobby turned his attention to Dean and Jo. "And you two? Any complaints?"

Jo shrugged. "I need to pee," she announced with a frown. She glared at Ruby as she passed the demon, and headed to the bathroom. The lock clicked in place as soon as the door was closed.

"Ok. Great hustle everyone," Dean quipped. "Go Team!"

Bobby rolled his eyes and stood up. "Bunch of fricking morons. Dean, hand me my bag." Dean did as he was asked, and handed Bobby his heavy duffle bag. The bearded hunter pointed a warning finger at him. "Remember what I said. If she gets hurt-"

Dean grimaced. "I know. I know. If anything happens to Jo I'll use Ruby's body as a shield when Ellen comes after me."

"Hey!" Ruby protested.

"Boy," Bobby growled. Dean grinned and nodded, promising he would look after Jo. Bobby turned to Sam next and cocked a thumb at Ruby. "You stay out of trouble, you hear? Do what your brother says and be good about it."

"I always do," Sam complained, but quickly nodded when Bobby gave him a pointed look. "Yes, sir."

Dean grinned smugly. "Say 'Hi' to mommy dearest for me," Dean commented.

"One word, Dean… pliers!" Bobby reminded him, and Dean abruptly stopped snickering. He frowned and Bobby picked up his FBI badge and headed outside. "Be good, Jo! I'll see you in a couple of days!"

"Wait a sec!" Jo came out of the bathroom. "Can you hug my mom for me, I know she wont understand it's from me… but please?"

Bobby's eyes softened and he hugged Jo gently. "I will honey, I will." He ran a hand over her stomach and smiled. "You keep the boys & the demon in line, alright?"

"I will. Thanks, Bobby." He nodded at her, and left with a worried look on his face. A few minutes later, they heard his car start. Jo turned to Dean and gave him a sly smile. "Now that the coast is clear, can we pick up some real food on the way to Bobby's house? I'm dying for a cheeseburger."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Jo, don't start."

***

With the windows down in the Impala and the warm morning sun pouring over her face, it was hard for Jo to believe the last few months hadn't all been some bizarre dream.

A quick glance at the rust coloured demon ward on the roof and the creamy skin poking out from her shirt was enough to bring her back down to reality. Beside her, Dean sat with two hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. Though she could not see his eyes behind the thick tinting of his sunglasses, she was positive he distributed his gaze between the road and the black SUV trailing silently behind them.

"Hey, Dean?" Jo spoke up quietly. He didn't look at her, but she could tell he was listening. "I was just wondering… what are we going to do?"

"What do you mean what are we going to do? We're going to Bobby's."

Jo motioned to her stomach. "I meant about keeping the demons at bay, the Angels, the baby," she rattled off. "Even if the demons magically give up on capturing us – what are we going to do once the baby is born? Are you and Sam just going to go back to hunting? Is the baby going to be hunted his whole life? Are we going to be on the run every day for the rest of our lives?"

He was silent for a few moments, considering her anxious questions. After a couple of minutes his head turned towards. "Firstly you _and_ me are going to do the only thing we can do," he said firmly. "We do our best. We take each day as it comes. If you start freaking out about what's going to happen a year from now, you'll do your head in."

Jo nodded. Her head persisted in being slammed with more questions, and his answer had done little to soothe her anxious heart. She picked at the seat belt. "It's just…" she paused, not wanting to annoy him, but unable to let it go just yet. "I've been thinking-"

"Always a dangerous thing to do. I'm constantly warning Sam against the activity," Dean joked. Jo forced herself to smile, and turned her head so she could look out the window.

The scenery continued to fly past them in a blur of black and deep green. She was about to open her mouth to question him again when she felt it. His hand gently nudged the side of her thigh and she dropped her hand into his open palm. He squeezed it gently. "Thanks," she said softly.

"It's okay to be scared, you know."

"I'm not scared," she rushed to assure him. "I'm just… concerned."

Dean nodded, his lips twitching. "Well it's okay to be _concerned_ then."

"Aren't you concerned?"

He huffed. "Of course not. I never get concerned."

"Right, this coming from the guy who refuses to go near an airport?"

"Who told you that?" Dean replied, looking annoyed. "Sammy? I'm so gonna kick his-"

"Bobby told me."

"Oh." He paused, and after a couple of seconds he squeezed her hand again. "Listen, I'm going to tell you something, but you have to promise not to make a big deal about it, ok?"

"Ok… unless you're about to tell me you want to start wearing my clothes. Because you really don't have the legs for a skirt, Dean-o."

"Shut up."

"Oh come on, like you're the only one who can crack jokes at inappropriate times?" When Dean didn't respond, she squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry. What were you going to say?"

"Nup – you blew it. I'm not telling you anything."

"Please?"

"Alright, fine." He glanced at her, and she waited patiently. What he said next surprised her. "Out of everyone… I'm glad it's you… you know." He motioned to her stomach. "I'm glad it's you I'm having a kid with."

Jo's face erupted with a large smile. Traitorous tears prickled her eyes. "Dean-" she started, struggling to swallow back the emotion.

Dean shrugged, obviously uncomfortable by the feelings that came with his revelation. "I just wanted you to know… so you don't have to worry that I'm gonna do a bolt during the night." He fidgeted in his seat, looking unbearably awkward. He glanced over at her and saw her smile. "What? I told you not to make a big deal about it."

"I wasn't going to," she said. Her smile turned into a full-fledged grin, and she squeezed his hand. "But I've kinda already promised Castiel I would go steady with him. He's a shoe in for Prom King."

Dean wrenched his hand away from her fingers sourly. "That's just great, Jo. A guy goes out on a limb, and that's your response?"

Jo snorted. "You were the one who told me not to make a big deal." Dean didn't answer. Instead, he tightened his hands on the steering wheel, a scowl stretching across his features. "Dean," Jo started. She made sure all signs of humour were absent from her face. "I was just messing around. I'm sorry. I appreciate what you said. It means a lot."

"Whatever. I don't care. Be in love with a bird. No sweat off my back." He replied, sounding anything but fine with the idea. "I hope you lay a whole bunch of little eggs with him."

"Dean, come on." Jo reached out and tugged at his wrist. He stubbornly held onto the steering wheel. "Dean," she urged. When he continued to ignore her, she leant over and pressed her lips to his cheek. Jo felt his jaw muscles flex and pulled back. "You know very well that I've wanted you since day one, so stop acting so hurt."

"I'm not hurt," Dean was quick to point out. "I'm just saying that if you'd rather make it with Cas, I'm not going to stand in your way."

Jo shrugged, a smile staining her lips. "Nah, I'm good. You've got a shiny black car, and a leather jacket." She patted her stomach. "Besides I'm carrying your kid and all, I might as well stick with you."

"You are seriously twisted."

Grinning widely, Jo patted Dean's thigh. "I did warn you."

***

"Is it done?" Lilith interrogated the weathered hunter as he exited Bobby Singer's residence. The short, blonde haired man nodded, refusing to look the demon in the eye. His grip tightened around the pistol he was hiding in his right pocket.

"The Angel wards are in place," The hunter confirmed.

"And you placed the bags in the walls as I instructed?"

The hunter continued to shift restlessly from foot to foot. "Yes, and the devil's traps are disabled."

"Good." Lilith remarked once she was satisfied the man was telling the truth. She snapped her long manicured fingers. "Consider the contract for your soul null and void. You're a free man Timothy Spice. Enjoy the rest of your miserable life."

The relieved hunter raised his head for a fraction of a second, and Lilith delighted in the anger, humiliation and guilt she saw dwelling in his eyes. She laughed. He turned away from her, stalking back to his rusting pick up truck.

Lilith turned back to gaze at the ramshackle house in front of her. _'There's no way those do gooder Angels are going to find them now'_, Lilith mused happily. "This better work, Ruby." She muttered and turned to disappear.

***

It was well after midnight when exhaustion finally caught up with Dean. After spending the rest of the day turning Bobby's house into fort knox, he had been in the middle of untying his boots, when his eyes started to droop dangerously.

An hour later Jo entered the spare bedroom, and found him sprawled awkwardly across the floor, drooling on his arm. She smiled, her heart swelling at the sight. When he did not respond to her jabs, she went to find Sam.

He was, as expected, sitting at Bobby's desk working his way through a bunch of old books. She paused at the door, hesitant to ask for his assistance, but knew it was better for Dean's sake if he got a good night of sleep. Jo was about to open her mouth to speak when the baby moved swiftly and painfully.

"Jo, you ok?" Sam looked up upon hearing her soft moan.

"Yeah," she said breathlessly, clinging onto the doorway. "Junior just decided to take up kickboxing today," she explained, pushing herself away from the doorframe. Jo tugged irritably at the tank top straining to cover her bulging stomach. "I just came to ask a favour."

"Yeah, of course, anything." Sam rushed to assure her.

"Your brother has passed out on the floor in an attempt to take off his shoes. I was hoping you'd be able to dump his butt in bed, because if I wake him he will refuse to sleep for another 12 hours."

Sam nodded with understanding, hurriedly climbing to his feet. "Yeah, he's stubborn like that."

"Well it takes one to know one," she commented with a smile.

Sam grinned sheepishly, and allowed her to lead the way up the stairs. Dean hadn't moved an inch, and it was with surprisingly little effort that Sam was able to pick his brother up, and put him on the bed. Jo thanked him wordlessly, and immediately started pulling Dean's boots off. When she was done, she tossed a blanket over him, and followed Sam out of the room.

Halfway down the stairs, the baby rolled over again, and Jo clasped the banister. Sam was at her side in seconds, wrapping a large arm around her waist, and carefully guided her down the remaining stairs. When she reached the bottom she shook him off. "Told you he was giving me grief. He's settled now." Jo wandered off into the kitchen rubbing the straining muscles in her back. It was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe, and in between the constant cramps in her back and the never-ending toilet breaks, Jo spent hours worrying about the future for her unborn chid.

"Do you want me to heat up a water bottle for your back or something?" Sam offered, hovering by her side.

Jo shook herself from her thoughts, and raked her fingers through her hair messily. She was determined to ignore the impulse to scratch at the bandages on her face, but Jo couldn't help but drag her fingers over the itchy material experimentally. "I'm fine," she assured the younger Winchester. "Seriously, Sam - you don't have to check on me every five seconds."

"Oh. Sorry."

Catching his disappointed expression, Jo sighed as he slumped off towards the study. "Listen Sam," she paused, unsure if she was ready to have this conversation with him yet. He hesitated by the doorway, his eyes cast towards the floor. _'Dammit, it's like talking to a puppy. No wonder Dean is always so easily persuaded to do what his brother asks,_' Jo mused unhappily. She cleared her throat. "You and me… there's a lot of _stuff_ that's happened over the years."

"I know, and I'm sorry-"

Jo waved him off. "Look, I'm not going to lie and act like everything is fine between us. I still owe you a major kick in the balls for Duluth." When Sam nodded sheepishly, Jo continued. "But you're Dean's brother, and blood wise you're my brother-in-law now… so… I'm not going to give you the cold shoulder or shoot you in your sleep or anything like that. We've got issues Sam, and they won't disappear over night – I'm just saying… once all this prophecy stuff is over, let's sit down as a _family_ and work it out."

Sam nodded eagerly, and Jo rolled her eyes when she saw that the younger Winchester looked close to tears as he moved towards her. She pointed her index finger at him warningly. "Don't even think about hugging me, Sasquatch - you've probably got demon fleas or something."

"Jo!" He protested, using the same disapproving tone he used on his older brother often.

Jo shrugged, a grin pulling at her lips. "Yeah, I know – that was bitchy, but I'm pregnant, so that's my excuse and I'm sticking with it."

Sam rolled his eyes, but she could see that he was hurt by her constant antagonism towards the demon. "Ruby really isn't that bad, Jo." Sam insisted gently. "Once you get to know her, you'll see. She's on our side."

"Whatever - just don't hold your breath waiting for us to be bffs ok?"

"Deal."

"Alrighty then," Jo opened the fridge in the kitchen, and after a disappointing glance at the empty shelves, she turned towards Sam. "Now that the emo stuff is over and done with, how's about you help me find where Dean stashed some of his candy."

Chuckling, Sam crossed his arms and leant his hip against the doorframe. "Have you tried the blue sock where he hides his ipod?"

Jo shut the fridge door with a smile. "You know about that, huh?"

Sam nodded, his eyes reflecting amusement at Dean's useless ploy. "When you spend just about every day by Dean's side, you pick up quickly that he is a creature of habit." He scratched the back of his head, his expression thoughtful. "Try his first aid kit. He usually hides a packet of MNM'S in the box labelled 'stitches'."

Jo grinned, "Tell me more oh learned one."

***

"Ellen? Do you have a second?"

Turning around, Ellen greeted the sympathetic blue eyes belonging to Timothy Spice. The blonde haired hunter stood in front of her, shifting from foot to foot looking distressed. "Yeah, Spicey. What is it?"

"Umm.. it's just that…what I'm about to say is gonna sound crazy, but-" he paused, glancing over his shoulder at Ernie handing Bobby a beer. Ellen's eyes narrowed, and she took stock of the man's appearance. He didn't look injured, and he certainly didn't smell drunk… but there was something off about the normally soft-spoken hunter.

"Are you in some kind of trouble, Tim?"

"I… um… I know this is a really bad time, and if I'm wrong I'm gonna hate myself forever, but it doesn't make sense – I know what I saw." Tim insisted, and took hold of her hand. Ellen looked down when he shoved a photograph in her hand. It was creased in the middle, and the edges were covered in fingerprints.

There was nothing unusual about the photo… except that in the middle of the photo was Dean Winchester carrying her deceased daughter in his arms. Upon closer inspection Ellen could just make out the blurred trucker cap wearing figure by Dean's side.

"I took this photo two days ago from my truck." Tim glanced over his shoulder at Bobby again, and nodded at the hunter quickly when he started to head towards them. "I thought you should know," he whispered to Ellen, and stepped away from her.

"Haven't seen you round here in a while, Spicey." Bobby greeted, waving his beer at him. "Did you clear up that werewolf problem?"

Ellen hastily shoved the photograph in her jeans pocket. Tim glanced at Ellen briefly, his expression tense. "Ah, yeah. All done. What about you? What have you been up to?"

Bobby shrugged nonchalantly, and took a sip of his beer. "Not much - just had some loose ends to tie up."

"Right," Tim responded, avoiding the hunters' curious eyes. "Listen, I just ducked in to give Ellen my sympathy's. I'll.., um see you 'round Bobby. Ellen – take care of yourself."

Ellen nodded at him. Her hand tightened around the photograph in her pocket. She was eternally grateful that neither of the hunters could hear how fast her heart was beating, and prayed that her face did not reflect her excitement. "Thanks, Tim." Ellen gave the weathered hunter a meaningful look. Tim ducked his head, and waved half-heartedly as he quickly exited the Roadhouse.

"You alright, Elle?" Bobby asked, touching her shoulder gently.

Ellen's first instinct was to recoil from the hunter, but she forced herself to remain stationary. The ropes of pain that had been coiled around her heart for the last couple of months suddenly loosened and fell away. "You know what Bobby?" she replied, studying his face. Ellen's hopes were confirmed when she noticed for the first time since he'd arrived, that the haunted, guilty look was now absent from his eyes. She forced herself to smile at him, when what she really felt like doing was shooting the man for deceiving her. A small part of Ellen's brain begged her to keep an open mind, to have faith that Bobby was keeping the current state of Jo's condition secret for a reason. "I think for the first time in a long time I really am."

Bobby frowned, his face reflecting his concern for her cold words. "Yeah?" he asked.

'_Of course I'm alright – my baby is alive!'_ Ellen thought, once again struggling to restrain her true feelings. She looked at her long time friend, and supposed significant other, dead in the eye with disappointment weighing heavily in her heart. "Yeah," she answered and started to franticly make plans on how she was going to find her daughter.

***

"So… you sleep alright last night, dude?" Dean looked up from the kitchen table when Sam entered the room with an armload of weaponry. The younger Winchester dumped the guns and knives on the spread out newspaper and started organizing them in the order they were to be cleaned and loaded.

"Yup." Dean grunted, and resumed cleaning the inside of the shotgun barrel. Upstairs, Jo was having her fourth shower for the day. Sam was worried that if she wasn't careful there'd be no skin left to clean, but Dean had already insisted it was the only thing that soothed the pregnant women's' aching muscles, and that Sam shouldn't say anything unless he wanted his head bitten off.

"You know you fell asleep on the floor last night, right? I was the one who had to dump your heavy ass in bed."

"I figured as much."

Sam tried not to flinch at the cold tone lacing his brothers' words. He cleared his throat and sat down in the chair opposite Dean. "Any word from Castiel or the Angels, yet?"

"Nope."

"Did Bobby get to Ellen's safely?"

"Yup."

Frowning, Sam stared at his offspring, trying to determine the reason behind Dean's non-committal answers. "Are you worried that we haven't seen a demon since we left Fort Collins?"

"Nope."

Finally, Sam had, had enough of trying to engage Dean in small talk. "Are you going to say anything other than yes and no?" he demanded, frustration pulsing inside his head.

"Where's your demon lap dog?" Dean responded, not looking up from cleaning his gun.

Sam ignored the insulting comment. "Ruby said she was going to try and find some more information about Lilith. Plus she didn't want to irritate Jo anymore than she had to."

Dean put the shotgun down and reached for his favourite Glock. Sam watched him disassemble the gun in silence.

After a couple of minutes of strained silence Sam cleared his throat. "Dean-" Sam hesitated, unsure as to the reasons behind his brothers startling new silent treatment. He racked his brain for something he might have missed. Nothing of consequence had happened since they had arrived. Unless…Sam wondered if Dean had overheard Ruby congratulating him earlier on dispelling the demons so quickly in Fort Collins. "What's with you all of a sudden?"

"Nothing." Dean replied gruffly, avoiding Sam's pleading gaze. "What's with you?"

"Why are you giving me the cold shoulder?" Sam pressed, resting his elbows against the table. He was alarmed by the way Dean bristled at his question, and knew his fears were now confirmed. Dean was mad at him. Not just mad – but the scary out of control fury that Sam had seen his brother be only a handful of times in his whole life.

The knowledge stung more than he liked to admit.

Sam suspected it had something to do with Ruby's presence, or the fact that Sam had ignored Dean's pleas when he used his demon powers against the trio hell bent on killing Dean back in Fort Collins. He knew his brother was against the whole demon powers thing, but he couldn't see how he could be so ungrateful when it meant that Bobby wasn't currently scraping Dean's brains off the ground.

He continued to wait anxiously for Dean to answer, the air growing thick and heavy with a tension Sam hadn't felt since his teenage years. As he studied the crease lines in Dean's forehead, and the troubled green eyes, Sam marvelled at the similarities in Dean's stance and their deceased father.

Growing irritated by Sam's observations Dean snapped. "Stop it."

"What?" Sam raised his hands innocently. "What did I do? Is this about Ruby? She's not even here, Dean."

"Sammy, I'm really not in the mood to do this right now."

Sam frowned, but took it as a good sign that Dean was still using his nickname, and not swinging his fists. "Do what, Dean? I just asked you a question-"

"Dammit, Sam!" Dean shouted; his fists slammed down violently on the table. "I said stop it!" He kicked the table legs furiously, and stalked out of the room. Sam jumped to his feet and followed him. Swearing under his breath, Dean made to go upstairs, but Sam grabbed his shoulder roughly.

"Dean-"

"Back off!" Dean roared, and shoved him aside heavily.

More than accustomed to Dean's mood swings when he was feeling cornered; Sam continued to urge his brother into speaking about what was on his mind. "Dean, just talk to me. I'm your brother, you can-"

"You broke your promise!" Dean hollered, whirling around, and shoving Sam up against the wall aggressively. The photo frame above Sam's head tumbled to the floor with a crash.

"Dean?" Sam exclaimed startled. He struggled half-heartedly against Dean's weight. "What are you talking about-"

"You think I've forgotten about what happened? Did you honestly think that after a good nights sleep it would just slip my mind?" He paused, incensed by Sam confused expression. "You _promised_ me you weren't going to use your powers anymore, Sam. You made a choice – you swore to me it was done, and not even a WEEK later I saw you use them without a second thought in that car park."

"Dean-"

"I saw it, Sam!" Dean growled, and viciously pushed Sam against the wall harder. He now had fistfuls of Sam's shirt, and didn't seem inclined to let go any time soon.

"Saw what? Dean, I don't-"

"You enjoyed it!" Dean suddenly released his fists, and stepped back looking disgusted. The eldest Winchester covered his face with his hands and kicked the banister. "Don't you get it, Sam? In that split second you weren't my brother anymore. You were exactly like that kid Max! There was no compassion, no hesitancy, no *Sam*. I saw it. And you know what the worst part was?" Dean turned to face him, and he pointed a finger at him. "The worst part was that I didn't care! All I could think about was how glad I was that you killed those innocent people so I that I could get to Jo in time."

"Dean-" Sam gasped, startled by the revelation. "I'm sorry-"

"No, Sam. You can't undo what happened. I've tried to get over it - I really have. But it keeps eating at me. All I can think about is that the demons won. Don't you get it? Not only did Ruby have to step up and save Jo herself - but I let *you* down. I let you become one of them, and what pisses me off the most is that I'll probably do it again when they show up to have another crack at Jo."

"No, Dean. It wasn't like-"

"Shut up!" Dean raged, and threw his hands in the air. "I don't want to hear it. I don't want you to make excuses. Everything has changed now." He dropped his hands, and took a step towards Sam. His green eyes glittered with regret, wrath and grief. "I have a _son_ now, Sam. I'm a father. I have Jo to think about."

Sam felt the air rush out of his lungs as Dean lowered his head. "It's ok, Dean."

"It's not ok." Dean argued, his voice quiet. When he raised his head again, Sam was startled by the intensity in Dean's gaze. In that moment Sam understood why everything was different for Dean, and why he looked so distressed by it.

"You have a new family now." Sam acknowledged quietly.

"Yeah, I do Sammy." Dean nodded sadly. "It's not just you and me and the open road anymore. It's no longer just about hunting SOB's and saving the innocent. I have to protect my _family_ first, and everybody else second." Dean paused as if startled by his own words. Sam watched Dean struggle to find the right words. "But I'm not dad, Sam. I can't do what he did. I can't make my family live that life on the road."

"No one is asking you to be dad. The man was…" Sam paused, knowing he had to be careful what he said. No matter how much time had passed, their dad was still a very sore spot for Dean, and he was likely to do more damage that good if he tried to convince Dean that their dad was never half the man Dean was.

"Everything is so out of control," Dean confided miserably. "How am I supposed to protect them – when I couldn't even protect you?"

"Sam? I grabbed some food for…" Ruby waltzed into the room holding two overflowing brown paper bags. When she saw the look on the two brothers faces, she grimaced. "Whoops sorry. I'll go."

"Come, go, stay – who gives a shit anymore?" Dean muttered, and turned on his heel sharply. "If Jo asks, I'm outside." Without another word, he stormed outside, the back door slamming shut behind him.

Sam released a tired sigh, and leant against the wall heavily. "You Ok, Sam?" Ruby asked tenderly. Sam shook his head, and scuffed his shoe against the floor. "Look, don't worry about, Dean. He's had a rough couple of days, he'll be over what ever spat you had after a beer or two."

"No." Sam said quietly, still looking at his feet. "I don't think it's ever going to be ok."

"It's just a fight, Sam." Ruby insisted. "You guys squabble all the time."

"It was more than that." Sam insisted, finally standing up away from the wall. "Dean's terrified." Ruby raised her eyebrows disbelieving. "He knows the only way to keep Jo and the baby safe is to let me give into the demon blood completely."

"So?" Ruby questioned, looking confused by the depressed tone in his voice. "That's a good thing right? He trusts you now."

Sam shook his head vehemently. "Actually it's the opposite." Sam bit his lip, his eyes stinging. "He just gave up on me."

"Sam-" Ruby started to caress his face sympathetically.

"No, it's ok." He told her, giving in to her gentle, comforting touches. "I understand. He's got a son to protect now."

"But you're his brother-"

"Don't worry, Ruby." He assured her. "He's made the right decision. My nephew is the most important thing right now, and I'd do anything to help Dean protect him." He removed her hand from his face, and looked at Ruby pointedly. "_Anything_."

Ruby nodded, in clear acknowledgement. Her eyes flickered black. "Well you know what we have to do next."

"Yeah, I know. I'm ready for now it."

"You sure? You can take a few days to think it through if you like, because once we start you can't change your mind." Ruby cautioned him. When Sam didn't show signs of doubt, she smiled. "We don't have to rush into it tonight. We'll just start you off with small dosages of demon blood again, build your way up."

"No, lets start the large dosages right now."

* * *

So... Thoughts? Theories? Questions? Be gentle - I know some people get upset when the boys fight... but it needed to happen and there is a reason for it. :D


	18. Chapter 18

**Rating: **M

**A/N: **Thanks everyone for your continued support - a few of you have asked me how many chapters this story will have total, and I can tell you that I am looking at 25 chapters. I hope everyone enjoys the chapter, and as always I would love to hear your thoughts/theories.

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'**The Devil's Feet'**

Some how, despite being knee deep inside a nightmare featuring fireballs and bloody ceilings, Dean detected the sound of moaning, and forced himself to open his eyes. Having kept watch for demons all night, Dean had collapsed in bed sometime around dawn so that Sam could take over.

The cold, tangled bed sheets beside him alerted Dean to the fact that Jo had been out of bed for some time. He stood up, his knees cracking begrudgingly, before shuffling towards the bathroom.

"Jo?" The door was locked. Knocking lightly, he called out sleepily. "Jo? You in there?" Silence. "Jo?" He knocked harder and twisted the doorknob back and forth pointlessly.

"Yeah?" The barely restrained pain in her voice bled through the door.

"You alright?" Dean inquired concerned, peering down at the floor. He could see a flickering of light, indicating that she was pacing back and forth inside the bathroom. He curled his fingers into a fist and pounded on the door. "Jo, let me in."

"What for?" Jo snapped, her pacing increasing. Dean didn't like the way she sounded so out of breath.

"Let me in or I'll pick the damn lock."

She swore, but after a few stubborn minutes he heard the lock click, and the bathroom door opened. Dean shoved the door aside, making a quick assessment of her appearance. Jo looked exhausted. Her cheeks were flushed bright red, and there were now noticeable dark circles under her blood shot eyes. Dean suspected her appearance had something to with the fact that her stomach appeared to have grown significantly overnight again.

"What do you want?" Jo demanded, rubbing her breasts as she paced back and forth across the small space between the toilet and the door. The motion momentarily distracted Dean, until he realised that her perky breasts had also tripled in size.

"Woah, they're massive!" he remarked appreciatively.

"Oh, shut up," Jo groaned, her fingers continuing to massage the mounds slowly. "They're killing me."

Dean tried to nod sympathetically, but a cheeky grin dominated his features. "I could rub them better for you?" He waggled his eyes suggestively.

Jo glowered at him. "Get out." She pointed to the door.

"Oh come on, you can't blame a guy for trying," he apologised, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. He dropped a kiss on her forehead tenderly. Jo pulled backwards, surprise etched on her face. Dean retracted his arm. "Why do you keep looking at me like that every time I touch you?"

"Umm, because you're Dean Winchester and you don't _do_ cute and affectionate." Jo reminded him, surveying him with suspicious brown eyes. "You're a shape shifter aren't you?"

Rolling his eyes, Dean crossed his arms over his chest defensively. "Yes, I'm a shape shifter and my goal is to kiss and cuddle you to death. Are you happy now?" Dean responded sarcastically. "Will you get over your bad self and let me kiss the mother of my child?"

Jo baulked. "So that's it? You only want me because I'm having your kid? What's going to happen when I pop him out? Are you just going to go back to ignoring me?"

Dean's jaw dropped open. "What?" he exclaimed, taken aback by the sudden change in mood.

Hands on her hips, Jo seemed to momentarily forget about the pain she was in. "You heard me. I'm not a damn soda machine you know! I can't keep dropping kids out to impress you. You either love me for who I am or you can hit the road!"

'_It's just the hormones talking Dean, just nod and apologise and you might survive with your balls intact,'_ Dean told himself. He took a deep breath, counted to ten and met her furious glare. "Jo, I know you're feeling really overwhelmed right now-"

"Don't tell me how I feel! You don't know anything-" she paused mid rant, and bent in half. She rushed towards the bathroom sink and leant against it heavily, her face screwed up with pain. "Oh God."

"What's wrong?" Dean was quick to apply the advice Bobby had left him with, and began to rub her lower back in small tight circles. "Where does it hurt?"

"Everywhere," she moaned into the sink. "I don't know if I'm going to be sick, or if I'm going to fall asleep."

"Come on," Dean encouraged gently, pulling her hair away from her face. "Why don't we go back to bed?"

Jo shook her head. "I can't. Every time I lie down I feel sick, but when I stand up my back hurts, and my ankles cramp. I feel like shit, Dean. I'm so tired, and I'm sorry that I'm snapping at you, but I can't help it." She turned to face him, and he was surprised by how vulnerable she looked. While he continued to rub her back, he leant forward to press a kiss to her shoulder.

"Do you want me to tie Ruby to a tree and let you shoot her for a while?"

Jo huffed out a laugh, and he was delighted when she slowly straightened up from the sink. "Ah, Dean." Jo smiled at him, and he pulled her into a gentle one-armed hug. She sighed into his chest. "I needed that – thanks."

"I aim to please." Dean guided her out of the bathroom. "Let's get you into bed and I'll go and make you some breakfast."

"Never dreamt I'd hear those words come out of your mouth, Dean Winchester."

"Yeah, me either," he admitted with a chuckle. "The apocalypse must really be on its way now." Dean waited until she had climbed back into bed before he left the bedroom.

Heading down the stairs, Dean was surprised by how light hearted he felt. Despite the threat of demons hanging in the air, and the very nature of Jo's pregnancy, Dean felt remarkably at ease. For the first time in his life he felt like he was doing what he was supposed to, and that his life had a strict purpose.

That feeling dissolved when he spotted his brother talking to Ruby in hushed tones outside. Frowning, Dean crept stealthily towards the backdoor. Ruby seemed upset about something, and Sam appeared to be doing his best to assure her.

"Ruby, it's ok."

"No, Sam it's not. It's moving too fast. You need time to adjust."

"But we haven't seen a demon in days!"

"So? That means nothing, Sam. They're probably just deciding on their next move. You're not ready yet, Sam. If the demons showed up now-"

"Come on, Ruby. Just a little bit more. I can take it."

"No, Sam. It's too much, too soon. What's the rush?"

"The baby is growing so fast. She looks like she's seven months already - which means the demons are going to be knocking on that door sooner rather than later."

"I hear what you're saying Sam, but-"

"No, buts. We need to be-" Sam abruptly cut off when the floorboards above their head moaned under clumsy footsteps. The bathroom door slammed shut, and Dean quickly ducked out of sight.

Hesitating for a few minutes, Dean released the breath he had been holding, and slowly edged back to door. Sam and Ruby abruptly relocated to the side of the house where no one could overhear them. _'Dammit, Sam what are you up to?'_ Dean wondered, heading to the fridge. He scowled, unable to concentrate on the contents of the fridge when his mind was sorting through the conversation he had just overheard.

Bobby's phone rang, dragging Dean from his thoughts, and he swiftly picked up the phone. "Hello?"

***

"You're up late – couldn't sleep?"

Dragging her eyes away from the textbook in front of her, Jo spied Ruby hovering by the doorway with two coffee mugs in her hand. "I was bored," she answered the demon irritably, and returned her attention back to the page she was reading. She had already read the same paragraph three times, but with the constant fatigue shadowing her brain of late, she had yet to process the information she was trying to study.

"Sam wanted something hot to drink," Ruby explained, holding up one of the coffee mugs. She crept into the study, gently placing a mug in front of Jo. A quick glance at the contents, and Jo noted that it was only warm milk. "I thought you might want something as well."

"You thought wrong," Jo responded rudely.

A hurt look flickered over the demon's face in reaction to her blunt refusal, but Jo wasn't fooled by the innocent act for a second. So long as the demon shared the same living space as her, she would remain suspicious of every move Ruby made.

"Oh, my mistake." Ruby retrieved the mug sullenly, and headed back into the kitchen to pour the milk down the drain. However instead of leaving to deliver Sam his coffee, the demon returned to the study, a fake smile etched into her face. "How are you feeling? Any more cramps?"

Jo entertained the idea of striking the black-eyed brunette with a thick textbook. "Weren't you getting Sam a drink?" Jo inquired, turning the page on her book. Her eyes scanned over the biblical pictures depicting the Archangel Michael casting Lucifer from Heaven.

"Huh?... oh yeah… sure." It was as quick as lightning, but Jo looked up in time to catch a glimpse of the resentful look the demon struggled to repress. "I better go do that."

Finally giving up on trying to strike up a conversation, Ruby sauntered off, muttering something under her breath that Jo could not decipher. She smiled to herself victoriously, and started to skim through the rest of the book.

The bedroom door slammed shut upstairs.

Yawning, Jo shifted from side to side in Bobby's desk chair, trying to coax the circulation in her legs to return to her upper thighs. With Ruby upstairs doing only God knows what with Sam, Jo decided it was safe enough to relax for a few minutes. She closed her eyes, and leant back in the chair. The headache that had been actively penetrating the back of her skull all day momentarily disappeared as Jo succumbed to a light sleep.

It was while Jo embraced the land of dreams that the pages in the book she had been reading started to turn at their own accord. Several chapters later, the pages ceased all movement. The page facing Jo illustrated a blonde haired woman cradling a child in her arms. Below the woman, hundreds of Angels raced towards the earth, swords drawn, faces determined as they neared the giant dragon snarling up at them.

A bible balancing precariously on the edge of the desk toppled to the floor, startling Jo from sleep. She blinked, heart racing, her hands automatically winding around her stomach protectively. The baby inside her stirred, moving around restlessly until Jo's loving strokes lulled him back to sleep.

Catching sight on the bible of the floor, Jo relaxed when she realised it was the book that had awoken her. She reached over awkwardly, and retrieved the leather bound bible from the floor and placed it in front of her. The image from the textbook caught her attention, and she studied the angelic figures and the text that accompanied the picture curiously.

'_**A vision of John: '**__**And she brought forth a man child, who was to rule all nations with a rod of iron: and her child was caught up unto God, and to his throne…**__**Revelations 12:5-6' **_

Jo cracked open the bible, her fingers flicking through the thin pages until she found the correct chapter. Eyes wide open she consumed each word with an increasing feeling of despair.

'_Oh please let this be a coincidence',_ Jo mused and discarded the bible in order to awaken Sam's laptop. Seconds later the Goggle homepage flashed across the screen, and she entered 'Revelations 12' into the search engine. She opened every link, each interpretation of the passage different from the last, until she could not read anymore.

"Sons of bitches," she swore, and pushed herself clumsily out of the chair. Her hand flew to the silver cross around her neck, and she began tugging at it while pacing back and forth across the study. _'No. There's no way. There is no way that my son is the same person that book is talking about. Castiel would have said something.'_

Jo glanced at the computer screen, her eyes retracing the text towards the end of the page. _**'And the dragon was wroth with the woman, and went to make war with the remnant of her seed...'**_

"Are you ok?" Ruby stood at the bottom of the staircase, an empty mug in her hand. "You look really pale." She moved towards the hunter, her dark eyes sympathetic. "Why don't you sit down, and I'll get Dean-"

"I'm fine," Jo snapped impatiently, backing away from the demon. Her headache returned with a blazing ferocity. _'I need to get out of here. I need to talk to Castiel. I need to think,' _she thought desperately, her eyes roaming the room for an escape plan.

"Where are you going?" Jo hadn't realized she was moving towards the backdoor until Ruby spoke up.

"None of your business," she snapped. "Just stay away from me."

Ruby dashed towards the door before Jo had a chance to reach for the door handle. The brunette slid in front of her, and placed a restraining hand on Jo's stomach. "You can't go anywhere by your-" The demon never had a chance to finish her sentence before Jo struck her. Ruby flew across the room, colliding into the fridge heavily. The demon landed in a pile beside the fridge, which promptly toppled over onto the already unconscious brunette.

"Ruby?!?" Sam came crashing down the stairs, his eyes widening when he spotted the demon underneath the fridge.

Jo backed out of the house before Sam had a chance to stop her. Heart beating franticly, Jo rushed down the porch steps, and headed towards the driveway. _'Dean's going to kill me, but I don't care because I need answers. I need-' _

The road in front of her vanished.

Disorientated, Jo came to a sudden halt when she realized she was now standing in a white room, furnished with hideously expensive looking gold chairs and marble tables. She turned in a tight circle, observing the renaissance paintings adorning every square inch of the walls. She recognized several of the paintings from the book she had been reading earlier.

"Castiel?" Jo called out hesitantly. She spotted a door at the far end of the room, and marched towards it. "Castiel?" It was locked. Cursing, she pounded on the door. "CASTIEL! Where the _hell _are you?!?"

When no answer came, she stalked around the windowless room, searching for a way to escape. On her third lap, Jo became aware of a sudden new edition to the room. The long marble table that had been empty seconds ago, now displayed an assortment of every food and drink imaginable. She glared at the banquet.

"Come out and face me, Castiel! I know you're there. Did you think I wouldn't find out?"

The silence was unbearable.

The rage she had felt earlier started to sap from her bones, leaving her feeling tired and emotional. Dropping down on the stiff gold couch perched underneath a gaudy gilt mirror, she swiped at the tears prickling at the edges of her eyes. _'Don't cry! You're stronger than this,'_ Jo thought miserably. But it was useless. A small sob escaped the confines of her throat, and she gave in to the fear, the confusion and the anger she had been suppressing for weeks.

Jo cried for things she hadn't even realised she was upset about. She also cried for the absence of her mother, for the safety of her unborn child, but most of all she cried because she had never felt so helpless and alone in all her life. The baby inside her shifted, sensing her distress, and she wanted to believe that he was trying to comfort her when he kicked against her womb -- However she suspected his activity had more to do with the fact that she could now smell freshly baked apple pie.

'_It was written there in black and white. A stupid book told me more than that lying SOB Castiel ever did. I'm just an easy bake oven for Heaven, and as soon as the baby is born they are going to take him away. They are going to take him away and we're never going to see him again.'_ Jo removed the pitiful tears running down her face angrily, struggling to shove her emotions back into place. _'Well screw that! Forget it! I'm not just going to hand my son over. There's got to be a way…. There has to be a loophole-'_

"Tissue?"

Jo's head snapped up. A white tissue dangled from the fingers of a handsome, olive skinned, black haired man. He smiled kindly at her and jiggled the tissue. "Who are you?" she gasped, ignoring the tissue. Her instincts to fight for her survival propelled her awkwardly to her feet. Halfway up, his warm hands shot out to assist her, but she shrunk away from him. "Stay away from me," she ordered, backing towards the table in order to put some distance between her and the stranger.

She cursed herself for leaving the house in such a foolish rage. Now it looked like her emotions would cost her. Jo glanced nervously around the room, only to discover that the impeccably well-dressed man in a navy blue business suit, had disappeared. Jo turned around in a complete circle, her eyes sharp. The man and his tissue had completely vanished.

"I'm loosing my mind," she muttered to herself. Determined to escape the aggravatingly bright room, Jo headed towards the only door in the room until she caught a glimpse of the mysterious stranger in the mirror above the couch. She stopped, and glanced over her shoulder. He stood by the long marble table, hands shoved deep in his pockets, looking thoroughly amused by her alarm.

"I was only trying to be nice, sweet cheeks. I couldn't help but overhear you sobbing your little heart out." Jo retreated backwards as he started to approach her slowly.

"Who are you?" Jo demanded, nervously casting her eyes around the room in search for a weapon to defend herself with.

The man smiled, his brilliant white teeth flashing. "My name is Raziel, and No – you wont be able to knock me senseless with that statue." He offered her his tissue again. "Here. Take it. No use making deal's if you're all snotty and teary."

Jo paused, confused by the man's odd comment. She wondered briefly if she had been mistaken in assuming she was in some sort of an Angel waiting room. There was only one supernatural being that she knew of that liked to make deals, and the knowledge chilled Jo to the bone. "I'm not here to make a deal."

"Are you sure about that?" he challenged, stuffing the tissue in his pocket when she didn't move to take it. "Because if I had just found out that I'm expected to sacrifice my only son, I might be in the mood to make a deal." He procured a cigarette from his breast pocket, and quickly lit it with a gold cigarette lighter. "This may be your only chance to save your son, Joanna Harvelle -- so pay attention."

"You're not a crossroads demon are you?"

The man smiled, his dimples prominent. "No. I'm not a crossroad demon." He took a long drag of his cigarette. "I could never be as good at paperwork as they are."

Perplexed, Jo tilted her head to the side and studied the strangers' body language. He didn't appear to be an obvious threat to her safety, but there was something about the over confident manner in which he held himself that made her nervous. "Then you're-"

"An Angel," he answered for her smoothly.

"Wait," Jo paused, searching her brain franticly. "Raziel…Where have I heard that name before?" Then it dawned on her. The book she had been reading. "You're the Archangel who supposedly knows all the secrets of the universe… you're meant to be some kind of patron saint for lawyers or something."

"Oh, gold star for the human!" He gave her two thumbs up. "It's good to see you're starting to act as smart as Castiel keeps boasting you are." He extended his hand towards the table of food. "You must be famished. Make yourself at home, sweet cheeks -- we have much to discuss."

"Where's Castiel?"

The Angel shrugged, and strolled over to the table. He poked and prodded a few pieces of fruit before stealing an index finger of cream from a slice of apple pie. "He's…" The Angel halted his motions briefly, his eyes boring into a spot on the table. He waved his hand about in a casual manner, the cigarette ash scattering over his suit. Standing up straight, he brushed the spilt ash away lazily. "He's around."

"I want to go home," Jo announced, and made for the door… only to discover that a solid wall now stood in place. She turned around, and glowered at the Angel. "This isn't funny-"

"I agree," Raziel remarked, stubbing his cigarette out in one of the goblets of juice. "Prophecies are such terrible business," he started, still brushing the stray pieces of ash that had landed on his suit. "Always so doom and gloom - never a mention of a happy ending, or something as simple as a choice. It's always; _'The chosen one will do this'_, and _'The chosen one will do that'_, and never you mind what they had to sacrifice in order to be the hero in the story."

"So you know about the prophecy?"

His voice was smug when he answered her, "Who doesn't? It's the juiciest gossip at the water cooler right now. The spawn of a Dean Winchester and Joanna Harvelle is going to try and kill Lucifer. It would make for excellent television viewing don't you think?" Grinning at his own joke, he strolled towards her.

Jo shrunk away from him, wanting nothing more than to flee the now claustrophobic white room. "I don't want to make a deal, I just want to go home."

Raziel laughed. "Nice try, sweet cheeks." He veered off towards the couch, and flopped down on top of it. "Once more with feeling though, if you don't mind." He swept his eyes up and down her body, his gaze clinical and cold. Jo fought the desire to punch him in the face. "How far along are you now?"

"Long enough," Jo replied, her hand tightening over her stomach. "Please let me go."

"I will as soon as we're done," he assured her, sounding irritated. "Time's running out, Joanna. I'm a very busy Angel, so I don't have time to beat around the bush. I'm here to offer you a deal. Take it or leave it. It's up to you to decide which destiny you can live with." He paused for dramatic effect. "We want-"

"The answer is No - no matter what the offer is," Jo interrupted stubbornly.

The Archangel crossed his arms over his broad chest, and raised an eyebrow at her. "No? Just like that? You condemn millions of people to hell, and you wont even hear me out? Surely you're not that selfish?"

"What can I say? I'm only human," Jo retorted hotly.

Raziel chuckled. "That you are," he commented. Jo wanted to gag when his eyes hungrily observed the fullness of her belly. It occurred to Jo that Castiel was a unique and rare Angel, and that if the rest of the Archangels were this egotistical as Raziel than she'd be happy if she never met another one in her life. "You think I'm bad?" The Archangel spoke up as if reading her mind. "Wait until you meet Zechariah – now that Angel has a stick up his butt."

"If I listen to your deal, than can I go home?"

"Sure thing, sweet cheeks. But I promise you the deal is pretty generous if I do say so myself." He patted the cushion beside him, indicating that she should sit beside him. "Come on, I'm an Angel - I promise I wont bite."

"I'm fine, thank you," Jo declined politely. She spied the wall that had once been an exit out of the corner of her eye. There were several candles flickering gently on a table beside the wall and she wondered how flammable the paintings were.

Raziel rolled his eyes, and crossed his legs. "That would be a foolish move, I'd only douse the flames as soon as you tipped the candle over," he cautioned her, standing up from the couch. "Enough time wasting." He cleared his throat, straightened his shoulders, and spoke with a clear commanding voice. "Joanna Harvelle we request that upon delivery of the child you are carrying that you wholly and completely give your son willingly over to Heaven." He paused, allowing her to process the information. "And just so we understand each other, you should know that the only way a person can enter Heaven is if they have cast aside their mortal trappings." Raziel motioned to the painting to her left. The picture depicted a group of men and women in mourning over a coffin, while above their heads two angels carried a naked translucent man to the sky. "It's the soul we are interested in – just like hell. We follow the same rules as those cockroaches."

"You're joking right?" Jo questioned, alarmed by the Archangels request. She tore her eyes away from the painting and severed the Angel with a horrified look. "After everything you've put us through… you want to kill my baby?" She shook her head, unable to comprehend what he was telling her. "What kind of a deal is that? At least the demons want him alive. Give me one good reason why I would prefer my son dead rather than alive?"

"Because Lucifer intends to use your son as a vessel," Raziel responded bluntly.

Jo stared at him incredulously. "So your answer is to kill my baby first, so that Lucifer can't possess him?" Jo exclaimed. "No wonder evil always wins – you guys suck at strategy!"

The Archangel bristled at her comment, his eyes darkening as he spoke. "I find it incredibly ironic that a human is giving _me_ a lecture on strategy, when it was a human that brought about all this mess in the first place."

"All this mess?" Jo repeated, unimpressed. "If I didn't know any better I'd say you're playing for the wrong team, _sweet cheeks_."

The Archangel surprised her by bursting out into a fit of laughter. Jo stood her ground, trying not to reflect how disturbed she was by the Angels sudden change in mood. "Forgive me," Raziel apologised, tugging at his tie. "I forget that you're not as up to speed as we are." He shook his head, a smile staining his lips. "Tell me Joanna, how much has dear old Dean told you about his little vacation in hell?"

Caught off guard by the swift change in conversation, Jo shifted nervously. The truth was Jo had never discussed what hell had been like for Dean. She had seen a glimpse for herself, thanks to Castiel, what Dean had gone through, and after the way he had reacted in the car, Jo didn't feel the need to remind him of something he seemed so desperate to repress. "What's it to you?"

The Archangel smiled superiorly, clearly delighted by the anxious thoughts bouncing around Jo's head. "So Dean didn't happen to mention that it was _his_ fault that Lucifer found a way to break out of his prison? Or is that not suitable pillow talk these days?" Upon seeing her bewildered expression the Archangel shrugged. "Guess that's a 'No' then." He glanced at the gold Rolex on his wrist and exclaimed, "Look at the time. It's been a whole earth second since I picked you up. Where does the time go?"

"You're a liar," Jo stated, ignoring his taunts.

"Am I?" Raziel countered. "Or maybe you're just scared to hear the truth? As I have just explained, earth time is unique. Heaven and Hell work on a separate time sheet. You see Joanna, while four months passed on earth, forty years passed in hell. That's right, poor little Dean Winchester lived forty long years in the pit. You barely lasted four minutes with Castiel – so I suppose you of all people wont blame him for cracking after 30 years." The Archangel frowned. "But crack he did. The demon's offered him a deal, and you'd think the dumb bastard would have learnt his lesson the first time -- but he didn't and the first seal was broken." He stood up, tightening his tie. "But here is where I come in. If you promise to hand over the anointed one I will trade you amnesia."

Eyebrow raised sceptically, Jo studied the Archangel critically. "Amnesia?"

Raziel nodded eagerly. "That's right. A little hand wave here, a little hand wave there and poof! As far as you and your little group's memories are concerned the last few months never happened. In fact it's an interesting story, Dean came upon you while on a hunt and suddenly he realised how madly in love with you he really is and then you all lived happily ever after!" He clapped his hands together, and grinned. "So how bout it sweet cheeks? You say yes to my very generous offer, and your child can join us in cleaning up the mess his father made?" When Jo remained silent, the Archangel took this as her answer, and his smile widened.

Jo raised her hand…

And promptly slapped Raziel across the face. The Archangel took a startled step backwards. "You must think I was born yesterday," Jo exclaimed, taking a threatening step towards the Archangel. "I don't want to hear anymore of your guilt trips." Raziel frowned. "There is no way you're going to convince me to give up our son, just because Dean couldn't take the torture. I bet my life you wouldn't have lasted a day in hell you pompous pigeon!"

"Care to make that a deal?" The Archangel retorted hotly. "Because I can rip that good for nothing soul right out of your pretty little head, and stick you in a place where no one will ever find you, and you can rot for eternity."

"Then what are you waiting for?" Jo challenged the Angel, her fingers curling into fist. "Come on -- I dare you!"

Furious, the Archangel lifted his hand towards her… only to stop dead in his tracks. He glowered at her, panting heavily, but he eventually retracted his hand slowly. When he spoke again it was through clenched teeth. "Consider yourself the luckiest human on God's green earth. If you weren't carrying that child I'd have squashed you like the insignificant ant that you are."

"Maybe," Jo shrugged nonchalantly, (though secretly her heart was racing), and served the Archangel with a defiant glare. "Or maybe you're just all talk."

Raziel took another threatening step towards her when there was a mighty crack of thunder. The wall beside the Archangel exploded into a thousand pieces, and a figure came charging through the rubble. "Raziel! What is the meaning of this?" Castiel shouted, his normally blank face bright red, and contorted with rage.

The Archangel appeared somewhat amused by Angels' grand entrance. "Castiel - I was wondering how long it would take you to show up. You're a little slow, if you don't mind me pointing out." He titled his head to the side. "You're not slacking off on the job are you, little brother?"

Castiel reached for Jo's arm and took it roughly, dragging her to his side possessively. She protested to the mistreatment, but he only responded by trying to push her behind him. "You know the rules better than anyone; Joanna is under my guardianship. No one is to contact her but me."

"Oh, don't get your feathers all in twists. She passed the test."

Castiel's eyes bugged out, and Jo wondered if the normally passive Angel was going to strike the Archangel. "You performed the _Act of Faith_ on her? Who gave you the jurisdiction to do that? She is my charge, my mission. You had no right. When Raguel hears about this-"

"Relax brother, before you say something you'll regret," Raziel interrupted sharply. He winked at Jo. "This is one Angel that is in serious need of a vacation, don't you think?"

Jo glowered back at the smug Archangel. She was still secretly hoping that Castiel might punch Raziel in the face. As if sensing her thoughts, Castiel's hands balled into fists, and she realised it probably wasn't a good idea for the Angel to take on his elder sibling. "Castiel, it's ok. He was just leaving." She gave the Archangel a pointed look.

Raziel threw his head back, and laughed deeply. Jo had never heard something sound so beautiful, and yet so cold and empty at the same time. "Oh, I like this one, Castiel. She's going to be so much fun, though she would do well to mind her temper or she'll wind up-"

"Raziel!" Castiel barked in warning. Jo barely registered their heated conversation when she suddenly realised the back of Castiel's trench coat was covered in blood. She reached out to touch the fresh looking stains hesitantly, when he jerked away from her.

The Archangel's eyes narrowed on Castiel's trench coat. "Whose blood is that?"

Castiel sent Jo an icy glare. She baulked, confused by his sudden change in attitude. "Castiel?" Raziel prompted.

"Anna's." Castiel responded in a sharp tone. "She tried to warn me about the unrest back home."

The muscles in the Archangel's jaw flickered. He cast a glance at Jo before turning his steely gaze on Castiel. "What-"

"It would be in our best interest if you returned home to assist Michael and Raguel immediately." Castiel replied cryptically. The Archangel looked momentarily alarmed, but a second later he to wore the same cold, blank mask Castiel was fond of wearing.

"We will convene shortly, Castiel." With a quick flash of light he disappeared, leaving Jo to ponder the sudden tense and anxious atmosphere.

"What did Raziel say to you?"

Ignoring his abrupt question, Jo pointed to the blood on Castiel's coat. "Who is Anna?"

"Did he offer you a deal?"

Jo glared at the inert Angel in front of her. "Is she the reason why you weren't there when we were attacked in Fort Collins?"

The colour drained from Castiel's cheeks. He deliberately avoided her eyes by reaching out and touching the bandages on her arm. "You're hurt," he stated sounding upset.

"Forget it." She shook his gentle fingers off her arm. "That's not important right now."

"Hold still." Before Jo could take a step away from the bossy Angel, he leant forward and dragged his hand down her side. She glared at him, but remained still. A small yellow glow spilled from underneath Castiel's patient hand, and her tender skin started to burn irritably in reaction to his ministrations. Jo opened her mouth to question the Angel's power when he tugged at the bandage around her arm.

"What are you-" The bandage fell away, and she marvelled at her smooth, flawless skin. She removed the bandages from the rest of her body, grateful to see the same wound free skin. "Oh. Thanks."

Castiel nodded. "I apologise for my absence. It was regrettable." He lifted his warm brown eyes from her arm, and asked her politely to explain what Raziel had offered her.

"He offered me the fairytale ending," she replied stiffly. Instead of continuing she reached out and touched the Angels arm. "I read the prophecy, Castiel." The Angel's eyes widened in surprise at her words, and he took a hesitant step away from her. "Were you even going to tell us about what you had planned, or were you just going to snatch our son out of the nursery one night and hope we don't notice?"

The Angel remained motionless for several minutes, his eyes lowering to the ground submissively. Eventually after Jo clicked her tongue impatiently, he finally answered. "Where did you read the prophecy?"

"The bible. Revelations to be exact - though I was a little thrown by the whole dragon thing. I'm really hoping that it's a metaphor for demon." Jo admitted.

Castiel shook his head slowly, his brow creased. "You are mistaken."

Jo titled her head, staring at the Angel hopefully. "About which part? The dragon or the part where you plan to kill my son?"

"The prophecy you read has been altered." Castiel moved away from her, and wandered over to one of the paintings. Jo realised that one of the paintings reflected the same image of the mother and son she had seen in the book. Castiel continued, his fingers reaching out and grazing over the child in the image. "Over the years the translations have been misinterpreted and the complete original prophecy is known only by God. I have spent a lifetime studying numerous texts from all over the world. Each text has been slightly different, but in every one the same details were the same. A warrior woman clothed in sunlight will die by the hand of evil and be raised by the hand of God. She will conceive a child with a solider of God, and they will produce a child who will be the saviour of mankind. He will be unique in birth for he will walk like a man, but will wield the power of an Archangel."

"And?" Jo prompted, joining him beside the painting. "What about the rest of the prophecy? The bible said the child would appear in Heaven. Even Raziel pointed out the only way into Heaven is if you're dead."

The Angel frowned at the mention of the Archangels name, and withdrew his hand from the painting. "Raziel should not have interfered."

"Castiel, please!" Jo pleaded incredibly frustrated by the Angels cryptic sentences. "I'm begging you here! I need to know-"

The Angel cut her off when he abruptly reached forward, and touched her forehead. She stumbled, sightly off balance when she realised she was now standing in front of Bobby's house.

"Woah -- Warn me next time you're going to do that," Jo scolded, trying to shake the feeling of vertigo from her head.

"Where the HELL have you been? I've been looking everywhere for you!"

Castiel vanished. Growling in frustration, Jo turned around to greet the furious Winchester running towards her with a shotgun in hand. Her expression instantly softened when she caught sight of the anxious look on his face.

"Dammit Jo, what the hell were you thinking?" Dean snarled upon reaching her. "Are you suicidal now?"

"I was with Castiel -" Jo tried explaining, but he cut her off abruptly.

"Jo, next time leave a frickin note! You can't just skip off like that - I just about went out of my mind. You could have been killed." He ran his hand over her, inspecting her for injuries until he noticed that her arm was now bandage free. "Did Cas do this?"

She nodded, and tried to pull her arm away. "Dean, I'm sorry I ran off," Jo apologised, trying to calm him down so she could explain what had happened. "But there's something I need to-"

"Dean?" Sam called out worriedly, having heard Dean's frantic shouts. He rounded the side of the house carrying a matching shotgun and an equally anxious expression.

"She was with Cas," Dean called out in explanation, his hand latching onto her wrist. He pulled Jo back towards the house.

Sam frowned, and lowered his gun. "You couldn't have left us a note?"

"That's what I said!"

"Dean." Jo tried to shake Dean's hand loose. She glanced at Sam warily, not wanting an audience when she told Dean what Raziel had said. "We need to talk-" She stopped mid sentence when a tingling sensation invaded her legs. Jo frowned, her fingers stroking her stomach as the baby started to shift.

"Are you ok, Jo?" Sam questioned, and took a concerned step towards her.

Jo recoiled as his proximity caused a burning commotion in her abdomen. She sniffed. The slightest traces of sulphur wafted from the younger Winchester. "I'm fine," she answered distractedly. There was blood on his hands. She glanced at him confused, until she remembered that she had just about put Ruby through a wall before she had been kidnapped by Raziel.

"Is the fridge ok?" she asked hesitantly.

As anticipated Sam frowned. Dean looked like he was trying his hardest not to laugh. "Ruby is fine," Sam told her quietly. "But Bobby is probably going to need a new fridge."

Nodding, Jo tried to catch Dean's eye. "Dean, I _really_ need to talk to you about something," Jo hissed, ignoring Sam's curious look. "In private."

Dean's brow creased in confusion, but he turned to his brother. "Sam, do us a favour and check the shed out back to see if Bobby's still got that blue cooler. We need something to put the perishables in before we buy Bobby a new fridge." Dean suggested.

Sam raised his eyebrow, his expression alternating between his brother and Jo. Sensing that he wasn't needed, he complied with Dean's orders and jogged off to the junkyard.

Dean turned towards Jo. "So you gonna tell me why you decided to beat the stuffing out of Ruby and then go for a midnight stroll with Cas?" Before she had a chance to reply he continued. "That was a really stupid thing to do by the way. Going out by yourself, after everything we've gone through, you just go and walk out on me?"

"I wasn't walking out on you," Jo argued, feeling her temper start to stir. I had been a long day, and the last thing she needed right now was to get into a fight with Dean. She counted to five before trying to explain why she had disappeared. "I read something in the bible that-"

"What were you doing downstairs anyway?" Dean continued to rant, ignoring her annoyed expression. "You were supposed to be in bed asleep. I can't believe you would put the baby at risk by beating the crap out of Ruby."

Jo frowned, her anger flaring. "I'm not made of glass, Dean. I'm just pregnant-"

"Exactly!" Dean exclaimed furiously, point at her stomach. "You can't just run around like you used to. You have to be careful. Jesus Jo, you've got to think about more than yourself for once."

"What?" Jo shouted. "Are you calling me selfish? You asshole! I think about this baby every second of the day!"

"Then what were you doing beating up on Ruby for? She's just a useless demon, Jo. You could have just told her to fuck off or something-"

"She touched my stomach, and my instincts kicked in. I didn't mean to." Jo defended hotly. "That's not the point anyway-"

"Then what is the point?"

"You can't wrap me up in cotton wool all the time! God, even the first time we worked on a case together you've treated me like this little breakable doll. I'm not that girl Dean – I don't need you to protect me, I'm more than capable of looking after myself."

Hands folded over his chest, Dean's green eyes narrowed at her. "Oh - so that ghost in Philly just invited you for afternoon tea in some rotting box did he?" Dean barked. "Why is it so wrong that I care about you? Why am I the bad guy because I don't want you to get killed?"

"I'm not saying you're the bad guy-"

"Yes, you are!" Dean shouted, throwing his hands in the air frustrated. "You're hormones are killing me! One minute you're happy and _normal,_ and the next you're this stubborn psycho Godzilla that yells at me just for touching you."

"Hormones? Godzilla?" Jo spluttered, her cheeks flaming red with fury. "Well I am so _freaking_ sorry for upsetting your perfect little life Dean. Since me and the baby are such a strain on you, why don't you just do what you always do, and take off?"

"See, you're insane!" Dean hollered, stamping his foot angrily. "I never said any of that crap! Stop putting words in my mouth-"

"Whatever, Dean," she interrupted, her hand up in the air. "Why don't you just go make another deal and be rid of me?"

"Huh?" Dean baulked. His eyes widened, and he stared at her incredulously. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly." Jo snapped back. "What the _hell_?"

"You know what? Fine." He folded his arms over his chest again, his jaw muscles flickering with restrained rage. When he spoke, his voice was icy. "I can't win. You hate me if I care about you, and you hate me if I give you your independence." He turned on his heel sharply and stalked towards the house. "Do whatever you want, Jo. I'm sick of always being in the wrong. I'll be inside with the demon – at least she doesn't accuse me of shit I didn't do all the time."

Jo snarled as he slammed the door shut behind him. Hands on hips she glowered at Sam as he remerged from the junkyard with a blue cooler. He stopped short when he noticed Jo's expression. "Where's Dean? I found the cooler," he asked hesitantly.

"He's inside having sex with your girlfriend."

"Huh?" Sam replied, looking taken aback by her statement.

Lips pursed together tightly, Jo scowled at the young Winchester. "Why don't you go join him? I'm sure you'll all be very happy together."

Sam continued to stare at her speechless. Throwing her hands up in the air, Jo stormed up the stairs, and burst through the door. Without so much as a glance at Dean stewing in the study or the smirking demon beside him, she stormed upstairs and slammed the bedroom door shut. Still shaking from rage, Jo climbed into bed and angrily curled up on her side, and imagined all the ways she could hurt a man with a pair of scissors.

***

Two days later Bobby returned to his house feeling strangely eager. Having procured the box of baby clothes from his storage shed, he felt confident that Jo would be pleased by his present. Despite the sad memories attached to the articles of tiny yellow and white items, he was glad that he had kept the box, and was looking forward to meeting the new addition to his eclectic adopted family.

Putting his car into park, he frowned at the solid wall of black trash bags piled against the side of his house. Slamming his car door shut, he called out for the young hunters he had left in charge of his property.

The first thing he noticed was the cobweb free windowpane by the front door. The second thing he noticed was Sam and Ruby sitting on the front porch cleaning weapons. "What's going on?"

"She kicked us out!" Dean complained, emerging from the side of house covered in grease stains, and waving a wrench at the front door.

"I think this is the nesting stage of the pregnancy," Sam quipped, looking amused. His eyes fell on the box tucked under Bobby's arm curiously. "How was Ellen's?"

"Fine. She was working at the bar by the time I left, but she's pretty quiet. Didn't really speak to me the whole time I was there," he explained and placed the box on the ground. "I think she was happy to get rid of me quiet frankly." Opening the lid, he pulled out a tiny jump suit covered in little yellow ducks.

"Thanks Bobby, but I think Sam is a little big for a onesy now," Dean quipped grinning. He wiped his oily hands down the front of his shirt, and peered into the box. "But he'll probably love the teddy bear."

Bobby rolled his eyes, and gently refolded the jumpsuit. He placed it back inside with the yellow booties and blankets. "Very funny, Dean. Don't quit your day job."

"Jo's gonna be thrilled," Sam remarked, pointing to the box.

"Don't hold your breath." Dean muttered sourly, and nodded his thanks to Bobby. "That's really cool, Bobby - Thanks. I hadn't even thought about baby supplies. I should probably go and pick up some diapers too."

"You can't leave her with us," Ruby exclaimed looking worried. It was then that Bobby noticed the stiches on the side of the demon's face.

"What did you do?" Bobby said, looking accusingly at Dean.

"Nothing!" Dean held up his hands innocently. "She's lost the plot. Good luck going into the bat cave by the way, you're going to need it," he warned motioning to the house.

Bobby shook his head, unconvinced that Dean had not done something to upset the already distressed blonde, and replaced the lid on the box. Tucking the box back under his arm, he climbed the recently swept stairs and headed inside. When he shut the door behind him, it took a couple of minutes for his eyes to adjust to the dark hallway.

"Dean, you better not be walking in here with your muddy boots or I'll skin you alive!"

Bobby's eyebrows hit the tip of his truckers cap as he took in the state of his house. He had forgotten that the carpet in the study was a tan colour and that the curtains were white instead of brown. Jo strode through the kitchen, a dusting rag in one hand and a garbage bag in the other.

Oblivious to his presence, she started dusting one of the bookshelves. Bobby stared aghast as he realised every single one of his books were now in alphabetical order and all placed neatly in books shelves. "Jo, what in the hell?"

Jo jumped, turning around to face him with an impish grin. "Oh, hey, Bobby - I didn't hear you come in."

"What are you doing?" He asked dropping the box by the doorway, and joining her by the bookshelf. He noticed with amazement that her stomach had tripled in size since he'd seen her. "Shouldn't you be resting?"

"Not you too." Jo admonished, with a roll of her eyes. "I'm not missing a leg or anything. I'm perfectly capable of tidying up a few things."

"A few things?" Bobby argued, glancing around his house. He hadn't seen the place this clean since… he swallowed back painful memories of his deceased wife.

"I hope you don't mind. It's just that it was really dusty, and well this one spider web was just _staring_ at me, and…well, I'm sorry."

Bobby waved her off, still gazing at his now immaculate home. "It's fine. I'm just surprised, and a little impressed that you managed to do this in two days."

"I didn't. I did it this morning." Jo told him proudly. "I was bored." She rested the dusting rag on her stomach, and sunk down slowly on the chair by the desk. "Tell me the truth." She lifted her legs in front of her. "How do my ankles look? I haven't seen them since yesterday."

Bobby grinned, and reached down to pat the blondes' feet. "They look fine. Really. Not that swollen at all."

Jo nodded, looking relieved, and ran a hand over her sweaty forehead. Bobby couldn't help but notice the dark bags under her eyes and the strained, anxious look in her eyes. "How's my mom?" she asked.

"Good." Bobby looked up as he heard the front door slam.

"If Bobby gets to come inside, than so do I. I'm starving." Dean grumbled rounding the corner. Bobby noticed with amusement that he was now barefoot, and had on a clean shirt. All signs of grease had vanished apart from a small spot he had missed by his ear.

"I never said you couldn't come inside," Jo protested, slipping her hands under her belly and leaning backwards.

"Sure, that was some other crazy pregnant lady that threatened to shove a broom handle up my ass if I didn't get out of the way." Before Jo could open her mouth to snap back a reply, Dean handed Bobby a piece of paper. "Daryl and Jerry called. Daryl's got a translation he is stuck on and Jerry wants to know if you've seen Tim Spice. He said something about the man taking up photography as a hobby – I don't get it either, but he wouldn't explain. Just said you had to call him."

"Thanks, kid." Bobby took the piece of paper and frowned. He bent down to pick up the box until he realised Jo was already carrying it across the room. She placed it by the foot of the steps, along with several other items from his once messy study.

"She's like a damn bower bird," Dean muttered to Bobby under his breath.

Smirking, Bobby patted the younger man's shoulder. "Just you wait for the tears stage. She could be watching TV and she'll see a puppy or something and burst into the water works."

"Nope, we already had that this morning," Dean corrected. A smile flickered across his features and Bobby knew that Dean's annoyed attitude was all an act. "Sam washed the breakfast dishes this morning without being asked, and she started sobbing for like ten minutes. It was the weirdest thing I've ever seen."

"So what did you do?"

"I went outside and washed my car."

Bobby chuckled. Jo returned to the room, and eyed the two hunters suspiciously. Her eyes zeroed in on Dean. "What did you break?" She asked scathingly, glancing around the room looking for evidence.

"Nothing."

"Hmmm."

"Ha! You sounded exactly like Marge Simpson – do it again!" Dean cried out with a grin. Jo sent him a deadly glare, and stormed out of the room.

"You best be careful, Dean." Bobby warned with another chuckle. "She'd probably figure out how to send you back to hell if you push her buttons too much."

"Oh, she loves it." Dean assured him. "Being mad at me takes her mind off how scared she is right now." Concerned, Bobby started after Jo when Dean held his hand out to stop him. "She wont admit it, but I heard her last night pacing back and forth in the bathroom. I don't know much about babies, but my guess is the human body isn't built for advanced births. Jo's body is receiving a beating, and she's fretting about the birth."

"Why didn't you call me?" Bobby demanded, turning on the younger man.

Dean shrugged. "You know what she's like. She's so independent and stubborn. I've had to resort to crushing up her vitamins and sticking it in her food, and when she's asleep I've been sticking a water bottle under her back to ease the pain." Bobby's expression softened as he realised the young hunter was doing the best he could to help her.

"How far along do you think she is?"

Scratching the back of his head, Dean scrunched up his face in thought. "I dunno - she's getting pretty massive though."

"DEAN!"

Bobby glanced at Dean, worried for the Winchester's life. "You better hope that she didn't hear you say that."

Dean grimaced, looking guilty and hollered, "What?"

"Could you bring me the mop from the kitchen, please?" Jo called out sweetly from somewhere down the hallway.

Dean gave Bobby a significant glance. "What for?" Dean shouted back, not moving to grab the mop. "Haven't you cleaned enough today?"

"My water just broke you asshole, and I just washed this floor!!"

* * *

So... thoughts? Questions? Have I confused everyone?

I should also mention that **Raguel** is the Archangel in charge of making sure all the other Angels are getting along and working together in harmony. In my head, this is who I assume Cas, Zack and Uriel would report to.


	19. Chapter 19

**Rating: **M

**A/N: **As always, thanks to everyone for their support and their comments. I must press that this chapter is not the last chapter. We have a ways to go yet. For those that are worried the story will go on to just be about Jo giving birth and then that it's, please rest assured that we have a roller coaster ride ahead for all the characters! :D

* * *

'**Prayer In The Night'**

"Sam!"

Dropping the knife he had been cleaning, Sam all but tripped over his long legs as he rushed inside the house. He stopped in front of the puddle in the middle of the hallway. "Dean?" He called out hesitantly.

"Here!" Sam stepped over the puddle and turned the corner. He caught sight of his brother and Bobby with their arms around Jo as they guided her towards the basement.

"What's wrong?" he asked worriedly.

"Jo's water just broke," Bobby announced, holding open the basement door so that Dean could help Jo down the stairs. "Can you go and grab the supplies from my car?"

"Dean, I'm fine - just let me clean up the mess," Jo protested, glancing over her shoulder at the hallway. Dean clicked his tongue impatiently and slid his arm around her waist so that he could support most of her weight.

"Sam?" Bobby prompted, trying to catch Sam's attention. "The bag?"

"Oh, yeah, I'll go, sorry." Sam turned sharply on his heel, and dashed outside, narrowly missing Ruby as she reached to open the front door. Leaping down the steps, Sam ran over to Bobby's car and threw open the rusty car door. Half inside the car, he searched franticly for the bags Bobby had mentioned.

"Dammit, where is it?" he cried out in frustration, when he could not located anything resembling a bag in the front or back seats. He shoved his arm under the seats and felt around. Nothing.

"Try the boot," Ruby offered helpfully, reaching into the car and pulling the leaver that would release the catch for the boot.

Sam nodded and climbed out of the car. Inside the boot he spotted two white plastic bags; one containing drop sheets, while the other contained gauze pads, sterile gloves, a thermometer and a silver pan. "Which one?" Sam asked, anxiously turning to Ruby for her advice.

"Sam, calm down." Ruby insisted, placing a restraining hand on his arm. "It's ok. Jo's only just gone into labour. This could take awhile." Sam nodded feebly, attempting to calm his racing heart -- but his brain was cluttered with all the stories he had read about things that went wrong during home births. "Sam, it's going to be fine."

"I know – it's just… she's going to have a _baby_, Ruby. She's going to have a baby in Bobby's _bunker_. It's not exactly the cleanest-"

Ruby cut off any further argument when she pressed a familiar silver flask in his hand. "Here. Drink this, take a second to calm down, and then come inside. You're no good to Dean if you're a mess – you need to prove to him that you're the strong one. You might as well stay out here with the car if you can't get it together."

Sam eventually bobbed his head up and down, and forced himself to take a deep breath. "You're right - it's going to be fine," he said shakily. "I'm sure Bobby has done this kind of thing before." His heart started to beat too fast again at the very thought of Bobby delivering his nephew, and he unscrewed the cap of the flask, and quickly downed the thick red liquid. He licked his lips, grimacing at the taste he was far from becoming used to, and was careful to remove any traces of blood from his mouth.

Ruby served him a sceptical look, but turned without another word, and disappeared inside with the bags. Once the front door slammed shut, he tucked the flask in his pocket, and tried to take another deep breath. In between inhaling and exhaling, a twig snapped to his right and Sam spun around; his hand outstretched. A tiny squirrel froze in place, its little beady eyes staring at him fearfully. Letting out a relieved sigh, Sam dropped his hands and allowed his tense shoulders to sag. The squirrel scampered off, and Sam shut the boot with his elbow.

When he reached the steps to the porch, he cast a wary glance around the property. The lack of demon activity only served to increase his paranoia; his body trapped in a feverish like state with all the adrenaline pumping wildly through his limbs. He shoved the silver flask deeper inside his pants pocket, and strode into the house.

"Dammit!"

Sam descended down the basement steps in time to see Dean accidentally drop a bucket of ice on the ground. The small ice chips scattered everywhere, and he bounced about trying to scoop them up. "Dean, don't worry about it - I don't need any ice," Jo tried to assure him from the bed in the middle of the room. "Really. Just calm down - I'm the one who's about to squeeze a watermelon out of their body."

Bobby chuckled in reaction to the sick look on Dean's face, and took his gloves off after having inspected Jo's progress under the sheet Dean had placed over her legs. "Sorry Jo, you're barely three centimetres dilated, so it's going to be a while yet." He stood up, and tossed the used gloves in a bin beside the desk. "_I'll_ go out and get some more ice since you decided to annihilate my fridge."

"Sorry 'bout that," Jo apologised meekly, smoothing the blanket over her legs before lying back on the pillows propped behind her. "But like I said to Dean, I don't need ice – I'm going to need drugs."

"You're not seriously going to leave, are you?" Dean questioned Bobby, looking aghast at the older mans suggestion. "What if the baby comes before you get back?"

Bobby grinned, and patted Dean's shoulder comfortingly. "Then you man up, strap on a pair of gloves and get ready to catch your son," the now cap free hunter instructed bluntly. "Dean, it's not that complicated. Jo's the one who is going to be doing all the hard work."

"As usual," Jo quipped.

"Delivering babies is not in the hunter manual!" Dean continued to protest, dumping the remainder of the ice onto the wooden table by the door. Sam glanced down at Ruby and saw that she was trying her hardest to hide a smile behind her hand. "Bobby, what if I drop it on its head?"

"Pretend the baby is a beer. I've never seen you spill a cold beer in your life," Bobby responded not bothering to hide his amusement.

"That's not funny," Dean argued, crossing his hands over his chest.

Sam noticed that Jo was shaking her head while staring up at the ceiling. Sensing his gaze, she glanced over at him and returned his smile weakly. He realised that despite her calm façade, her eyes kept flicking about restlessly, and suspected the look of concentration meant that she was reciting a silent mantra to herself.

Bobby headed towards the bunker door, a pair of scissors in his hand. "I'm going to grab some antibacterial gel from upstairs," he explained and Sam stepped aside to allow him entry to the stairs. "Sam, do you mind fetching your brother a dress since he's determined to act like a little girl?"

"Is anyone taking this seriously?" Dean protested angrily. He pointed at Jo. "She is about to have a _baby_ and you're all acting like we are just waiting for a football game to start." Jo huffed a laugh, and he frowned at her. "Lets see if you're laughing in the middle of your next contraction - you just about broke my hand during the first one."

"Consider yourself lucky," Ruby spoke up, looking delighted by the fact that the normally cocky hunter was starting to freak out. "I'm just glad there are no more fridges left in the house."

"There's still plenty of windows," Jo muttered under her breath, her eyes focused on the ceiling once again.

"This is me shutting up." Ruby promised, holding her hands up in defence. She went to sit on the bottom rung of the stairs, and patted the space beside her. "Might as well get comfortable Sam, the game probably wont start for a while."

***

"Good Afternoon, Sir. How can I help you?"

"I require a telecommunication device." Castiel responded politely to the teenager dressed in a blue polo shirt. The girl raised her eyebrows at his formal approach, and waved her hand at the wall of cell phone adorning the walls behind her.

"Okay, is there something specific you were after? The new iphone maybe?"

Castiel nodded, his eyes scanning over the different models. "Yes… *I* require a phone."

"Ah, funny." The girl, whose nametag read 'Lisa', motioned to a black rectangle shaped phone. "The iphone is the new must have phone this season. Do you own a Mac?"

Head tilted in a curious manner, the Angel responded to the girls' question. "What is a Mac?"

"Okay, so that's a no," She smiled at him, though he understood that the smile was forced. A quick glance at her blue eyes told him that she was bored by her day job, and that she sought better employment once she completed her education. "But that's ok, you don't need a Mac to-"

"I need to contact Dean." Castiel interrupted rudely, growing impatient by the girls continuous babbling. He pointed at the other phones on the wall. "It is most urgent that I speak with him."

The girl, Lisa, flushed red and tugged embarrassed at her ponytail. "Umm so you just want a phone for calling purposes?" she asked, now paying attention to his non-nonsense stance. "How often do you make calls, sir?"

"This is the first time I have had to use a telecommunication device to contact Dean. Normally I just appear," Castiel answered promptly, and turned to the wall of phones. He reached out, attempting to pull a cell phone towards him until he realised it was chained to the wall. He frowned at the inconvenience and let go. The phone slapped back loudly in to place. "I have seen one like that on television. It appeared to work adequately."

"Oh, so you saw the commercial on TV? Alright – did you want a prepaid account or would you like to set up a plan?"

"I already have a plan," Castiel remarked reaching for another phone. He tugged at it harder and the chain came free. The girl gasped out loud as he deposited the phone in her hand. "This will be suitable. It is imperative that I reach Dean before Joanna gives birth."

"Umm," The girl looked frightened by his gruff response, and glanced over at the tall man standing by the cash register. Castiel detected that her heart had started to beat rapidly. He attempted to smile kindly, but the action felt stiff and strange. The girl took an alarmed step back from him. "I'll… umm… just go and ask my boss what prepaid account he would recommend for you."

"Yes, tell him I require one that will allow me to contact Dean Winchester."

"Okay… umm Corey!" The girl all but ran over to her boss who had just finished serving a customer. Castiel turned his back on the two workers, and peered through the transparent walls of the store. Brow furrowed, he studied the humans milling about outside the store. The neon lights inside the heavily populated mall hurt his eyes, yet Castiel remained vigilant while awaiting his purchase.

He was restless. He had sensed the change in Joanna while reporting to Raziel and Raguel, but he had been unable to appear directly by her side. An invisible barrier had been placed around the Singer residence, and he had tried all possible methods of attempting to penetrate the transparent obstruction. There was no doubt in Castiel's mind that the demon Ruby was involved – yet he had no proof.

Something was very wrong; Castiel knew it with every fibre of his being, but so long as he had no access to Joanna he knew that meant no one else had access either - and that was a compromise he could deal with until the child was delivered.

"Sir, if you could come with me, please?"

***

Tony Billings hated the creepy St Mary's convent.

As chief security officer for the downtown area of Ilchester, Maryland, he was the first one to respond to the concerned calls from the locals reporting a disturbance in the old condemned convent. Flashlight in hand, he swept through the old rooms draped with endless spider webs and dust. Halfway down the grimy stone hallway his flashlight bounced off a white marble statue of an angel.

Grimacing at the off putting statue, he continued to make his way through the church searching for a sign of mischievous youths or drug dealers looking for a place to set up shop. His trained brown eyes detected the lack of footprints on the dirt-encrusted floor, and he started to suspect the disturbance was nothing more than a trick of the light.

"Howdy."

Startled, Tony whirled around to face a tall striking blonde dressed in an expensive looking white gown. Confused by her big smile and wide eyes, he switched his flashlight off and dropped his arm.

"Hey lady, this is private property. You're not supposed to be here."

"But I'm here for mass," she replied innocently with a small shake of her head. Her smile widened, and Tony felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as she narrowed her eyes on him. "And so are you."

He opened his mouth to order her off the premises, when two large men jumped him. Tony cried out in alarm, struggling to fight off the two men. Within seconds they had the upper hand, pinning him to the ground with an unnatural amount of strength, and his shout dissolved in his throat when he noticed that both his attackers had oily black eyes.

The blonde approached him, and it was with horror that Tony watched her eyes roll into the back of her head. "Oh God," he whispered.

"Guess again."

***

"Will you just sit down and take it easy?" Dean pleaded from across the room.

Jo ignored him, and continued to pace back and forth inside the bunker. She counted the steps in her head, trying to keep her mind focused on each step and not the desire to scream. The pain from the recent contraction started to ease, and she let out a shaky deep breath.

Leaning against the wall exhausted, she rested her head against her forearms. Enjoying the blissful pain free minute, she tried to concentrate on the clock on the table by the door. It took a mammoth about of effort to convince her pain-frazzled brain to calculate how long she'd been down in the bunker.

"Do you want help getting back into bed?"

"Do you want to be shot?" Jo snapped back, irritated by the constant presence of the eldest Winchester. She noted with a quick glance, that his brother was still stationed quietly outside the door of the bunker with a shotgun in his lap. Beside him, Ruby leant against the doorframe looking bored while she traced an invisible pattern into the dusty basement floor.

Sighing miserably, Jo tried to remind herself that Dean was only trying to be supportive and had been the one rubbing her back through every contraction. However after seventeen hours of never ending labour pains, Jo was no longer in the mood to be reasonable or appreciative, and was instead left feeling tired, sore and in desperate need to kill something. "Where's Bobby?"

"Bobby!" Sam hollered up the stairs.

Jo listened to the footsteps crashing down the basement steps. "She ready?"

"Why is it taking so long?" Jo shouted, slowly straightening up and shuffling back towards the bed. Dean instantly stood up from his stool by her bed, and held out his arms so that he could support her weight while she lowered back down onto the mattress. Once she was settled, he encouraged her to lean forward so he could bunch up the pillows. She smiled at him gratefully as he returned to his stool, and caught sight of the surprised look on his face.

Bobby entered the room with a fresh bucket of ice and a pitcher of water. He placed the items on the table beside the towels, bowl, string and scissors. Jo grimaced. She couldn't believe Bobby of all people was going to see her give birth. Not that she had been seriously worried a minute ago. Jo was pretty sure that if she didn't give birth soon, she wouldn't care who saw her vagina; she was one hour away from reaching in and yanking the baby out herself.

"You're doing good, honey," Bobby assured her, checking to see how dilated she was. Jo noticed that Dean had finally stopped cringing every time Bobby lifted the sheet to inspect her progress. "It shouldn't be too much longer now."

Jo groaned, and threw her head back. She was far from delighted to hear his prognosis. "How much longer exactly, Bobby? Seconds? Minutes? Hours? I need to know an exact time frame here."

Bobby smiled at her sympathetically. "I can't do that, honey. Your contractions are still too far apart, and I wont know until they are closer together."

"But it can't be too far away right? Like an hour? Tell me it's an hour. I can't do this for another seventeen hours. I just can't." She turned to Dean, and saw the empathy on his face. "Tell him I can't, Dean. I'm not joking. I really can't do this any longer. It's your turn now. I'm done."

"You can do it." Dean assured her, rubbing her arm soothingly. "You're doing great. I never would have lasted this long."

Ignoring his lame attempt to lighten her mood, Jo glared at her surroundings. "Where's Castiel anyway?" Jo asked grumpily. "Has anyone heard from him yet? Has he got better things to do? Is he getting a freaking manicure or som-"

Pain.

Red, hot, searing pain started to prickle at her lower back, before making its way around to the front of her stomach. Jo leant forward in preparation for the onslaught. "Ohhhh. No…no… no… not again…. God dammmmiiiitttt!!!"

Gasping in agony as another contraction ripped through her, Jo gripped the bed sheets, trying to bite down on her already butchered lip while she road out the pain. Everything hurt. She had never felt so much pain in her life, and yet with each hour the pain increased to levels she didn't know she was capable of feeling. She longed for it to be over, she longed to sleep, she longed to punch Dean in his stupid concerned face.

"Son of a bii…. Dean, I'm gonna kill you. I swear. I'm going to… ohhh!" Jo closed her eyes, one arm around her waist and the other hand clutching Dean's wrist.

"That's it, Jo. Hang in there." Dean encouraged, his rough hands running up and down her back. "Deep brea-" He cut himself off abruptly when she growled, and dug her nails into his wrist.

"Owwww…ooohhh… frickin' dying didn't hurt this much!" Jo tried to breath, but she could barely inhale before the pain doubled and she froze in place. She counted the creases in the sheets, and when she ran out of creases to count she moved on to how many times she was going to punch Ruby in the face until the contraction finally started to dissipate.

"You're doing great Jo, you really are." Dean encouraged her gently, trying to withdraw his bruised arm from her now loose fingers. He tucked her hair behind her ear and rubbed her shoulders. "It wont be long now, and then I promise it'll all be worth it. You probably wont even remember the pain-"

"Dean?" Jo cut in; slowly easing back into the pillows when she was sure the contraction was over.

"Yeah?"

"Go away," she ordered.

Dean raised his eyebrows. "What?" He glanced over at Bobby for an explanation. "What did I do?"

"You're not helping," Jo complained, turning her head so she could glare at him. "And I've decided that I don't want you to see me give birth."

Rolling his eyes, Dean snorted. "Jo, don't be stupid – we've slept together, it's not like I haven't seen-"

"Out!" Jo commanded, pointing at the door.

"Fine," Dean snapped, looking hurt. He stood up and placed his stool by the table. "I'll go. But only for a few minutes and I'll be back soon."

Jo nodded, uninterested by his promise. All she cared about was that he was as far away as possible from her face. She closed her eyes and ran a tired hand through her tangled hair. "And take Sam and Ruby with you."

Throwing his hands up in the air, Dean started to grumble. "They can't even see you from over there," he argued. Upon viewing her determined look, he shook his head. "Jo, someone needs to guard the door."

Using the same puppy dog eyes she had seen Sam use when he wanted Dean to cave, Jo added a pout to her lips. "Dean, please."

"Jo, come on!" Dean protested in vain. He looked to Bobby for support, but the older man just shook his head. "Bobby, tell her… It's not safe."

Jo scoffed, and gave Bobby a warning glare. "Dean, you should probably do what she says for now," Bobby urged, and Jo smiled victoriously. Crossing his arms stubbornly, Dean refused to budge. "It's fine, Dean. I'll be here."

"No. I want you too go with him, Bobby," Jo corrected, shaking her head. She ran a tired hand over her enormous belly and tried to sooth the pain in her pelvis.

"What?" Bobby griped. "Are you planning on delivering the baby yourself, are you?"

Shaking her head, Jo ran a fatigued hand over her damp forehead. "No," she pointed to the door. "I just need five minutes of peace and quiet. Can't you just give me that?"

"You should probably do what she says, Bobby." Dean reiterated, looking smug. Jo sensed that he didn't feel as victimised now that he wasn't the only one Jo couldn't stand to be in the same room with.

"Boy, you better not-"

"OUT!" Jo hollered, clutching her stomach.

Grumbling under their collective breaths, all three men and the demon left the bunker sullenly. As soon as she was sure she was alone, Jo sunk down into the pillows heavily, and let out a worn-out sigh. She stared at the fan moving sluggishly above her head, and realised that the lack of light streaming down meant that night had fallen already.

Face scrunched up, Jo shifted against the pillow in an attempt to find a comfortable position. What had once felt like a soft mattress and fluffy pillows, now felt akin to lying on the slab of cement. She shifted, trying to adjust her body awkwardly, but a persistent burning sensation followed her movements.

Desperate to avoid the pain from yet another contraction, Jo struggled to roll onto her side. The pillows felt like lead. Tossing them onto the floor she rested her head on the mattress. The baby shifted and she moaned into her arm. "Come on baby, you gotta come out. You can't stay there forever."

Silence.

Jo closed her eyes, and attempted to seek the comfort of sleep. Despite the weariness clinging to every muscle in her body, she could not find peace and after a few minutes, she leant forward to retrieve her pillow. As her fingers closed over the edge of the pillow, she felt something digging in her side. It took her a couple of minutes, but eventually Jo was able to pull herself into a sitting position.

Fingers hunting for the disturbance, Jo pushed against the foreign object imbedded in the mattress. Intrigued, she pulled the sheets back from the bed and searched for the lump. She eventually found a small slit in the mattress, and stuck her fingers inside the stuffing.

Something furry brushed against her fingers tips, and Jo feared for a second that she had detected a rodent. Snatching her fingers back she peered down at the hole and spotted a piece of leather string. Tugging on the string, a small brown bag popped free.

Before Jo could inspect her discovery, a contraction surged forward, forcing her to cling to the side of the bed frame. She moaned painfully, squeezing her eyes shut and counting down the seconds until the contraction would end. The contents inside the bag in her hand shifted, and she began tugging at the strings to distract herself from the relentless pain.

Halfway through opening the bag, her clumsy fingers slipped over the bags strings and spilt the contents onto the floor. The contraction increased in strength, forcing Jo to close her eyes and pray that it would be over soon. Her teeth locked down, preventing a distressed scream from escaping her throat.

"Oh God," Jo rasped out as the pain declined. Gasping from the effort, Jo remembered the bag she had procured from the mattress, and glanced at the floor. What she saw there nearly brought on another contraction.

Scattered across the floor, Jo spied several tiny charred bones, and a few other items she didn't recognise. She gulped, suddenly aware of why Castiel had been absent for the last couple of days.

"Looks like you found my Angel ward."

Jo raised her eyes from the floor. Ruby stood at the door of the bunker, her black eyes filled with amusement. Jo opened her mouth to retort when Ruby surprised her by taking a bold step over the demon ward. Horrified, she watched the demon pass unhindered through the devils traps, until she came to a complete stop in front of the bed.

"It's show time."

***

"Bobby, you read my mind," Dean gushed as Bobby handed each of the men a shot of whiskey. Dean knocked the amber liquid back quickly, and offered his empty shot glass back out for more. Bobby refilled the glass obligingly, and replenished his own.

Bobby turned to refill Sam's glass, when Dean noticed that his brothers' extended hand was shaking. He raised a curious eyebrow at Sam. "Dude, what's with you?" He quipped with a smirk. "You're not getting queasy over the birth are you?"

"I'm fine," Sam snapped back, shoving his hand deep into his pockets. "I'm just tired."

Confused by his siblings' sudden change in mood, Dean shared a sceptical glance with Bobby. "Tired?" he repeated. "If today has taught me anything, Sammy - we don't know the meaning of tired." He grinned, and knocked back another shot of whiskey. He let out a grunt of appreciation, and placed his shot glass on the kitchen table. "I wouldn't trade places with Jo for a trillion dollars."

"What? Hell wasn't painful enough for you?" Bobby teased, replacing the lid on the bottle of whiskey. He placed his own shot glass next to Dean's, and held out his hand to take Sam's glass. Sam's shaking hand was still clenched around something in his pocket.

Dean snorted in reaction to Bobby's question. "Not quite, Bobby." He glanced around the room; craning his neck so he could peer around his brother. "Speaking of hell… Where is your demon bestie?"

Sam slammed his shot glass down on the table, and glowered at his brother. "How should I know? We aren't attached at the hip."

"Oookkkayyy," Dean replied, giving Sam a bewildered look. "Where is the black eyed-"

"Her name is Ruby!" Sam exploded, reefing his hands out of his pocket. As he did so a small silver flask clattered to the ground. Oblivious, Sam rounded on his brother, his face twisted with an ugly scowl. "I don't call your girlfriend names."

Dean frowned, jerking his head back. "Excuse me? She's your _girlfriend_ now?" He remarked, surprised by the revelation. "I must have missed that funeral notice." He glanced at Sam's curled fist. "My condolences bro, I didn't realise you were demon whipped."

"That's it! I'm gonna-" Sam made to lunge at Dean, but was intercepted by Bobby, who had anticipated the younger man's reaction. He pushed Sam away roughly, and was surprised by the amount of effort it took to restrain the man.

"Boys, cut it out." Bobby interceded. "Everyone is just tense, but it's no excuse to-"

"What's with the flask?"

Sam froze. Dean swept the fallen silver flask off the kitchen floor, and shook the object. "Dean, give it back!" Sam shouted desperately, and made to grab at the flask. Dean quickly held the item above his head, while Bobby pushed Sam backwards.

"Stop it, you two!" Bobby grunted, giving Dean a warning glare. "Dean, just give him back his-"

Dean unscrewed the lid of the flask, and sniffed the contents. His features screwed up in disgust and he wrenched the offending item away from his face. "You wanna tell me what the hell this is?" Dean ordered Sam, his jaw hardening.

Bobby peered over his shoulder confused when Sam suddenly stopped struggling. The taller Winchesters' dilated eyes zeroed in on the flask, and his cheeks flushed red. "Dean," Sam croaked out. "It's not what it looks like."

"Really?" Dean snapped. "Because you better have one serious explan-" He was cut off when Sam suddenly burst forward, and made a grab for the flask. Dean side stepped his brother smoothly, and was quick to duck under his brothers flying fist.

"Give it!" Sam shouted, and made another grab for the flask.

"Sam, what in the hell-" Bobby shouted, and backed behind the kitchen table seconds before Sam went to shove him aside. He glanced at Dean nervously. "Dean, what's going on?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Dean growled. "Sam?" Dean tipped the flask upside down. Scarlet liquid slid from the flask, and splashed across the tiled floor. The stench of sulphur filled the room.

Bobby gapped at the liquid, before slowly dragging his eyes up at the shaken Winchester. "Demon blood, Sam?" he said quietly. "What-"

"He's been drinking it." Dean surmised, glaring at his brother, his eyes filled with repulsion. "Haven't you, Sam?"

Sam, who stared at the mess on the floor with a devastated look on his face, ran a shaking hand through his messy hair. "Dean, I- I-"

"Just answer the damn question, Sam!" Dean bellowed.

Dean's cell phone in his pocket started to ring. Sam glanced at his brothers pocket grateful for the distraction – until he spotted the level of revulsion frozen on Dean's face. "You've been drinking demon blood to increase your psychic powers haven't you?"

"Dean, It's… I'm only trying to protect you-"

"Bullshit!" Dean roared, and pitched the flask at his brother. It bounced off Sam's chest and clattered nosily onto the floor.

"It's not! I'm doing this for you, Dean – I'm trying to protect our family," Sam pleaded, and took a step towards Bobby with an earnest expression. The cell phone continued to ring. "Let's just talk about this," Sam urged softly taking another step forward. Booby stepped backwards hesitantly; his confused and betrayed eyes searching Sam's face for reason. "I'm the only one who can do this," Sam insisted, struggling to hold back the look of hurt as Bobby continued to shy away from him. "I'm the only one strong enough to protect Jo and the baby-"

"The hell you are!" Dean exclaimed, charging towards Sam. "If you think turning into some junkie is helping me, than you have lost your mind!"

"DEAN!"

A blood-curling scream shook the walls of the two-story house.

***

Castiel growled with frustration and hurled his phone at the swing set in front of him. It was useless. Dean was not going to answer his phone and he was out of time. He tried again uselessly to reach out with his mind and arrive by Dean's side - But just like every other time he had tried, he was met with a solid wall.

A loss at what to do next, Castiel began to pace. His plan was unravelling faster than he could have anticipated. He frowned. He knew it had something to do with the demon Ruby, and realised with sickening regret that he had underestimated the evil serpents ability to interfere with his mission so effortlessly.

It was in between worrying over his next course of action, that the atmosphere around him abruptly changed. His brown eyes swept the deserted park until he was sure that the shadows cloaking the surrounding trees were of no threat. Sensing that he was out of choices and was in desperate need of assistance from the Archangels, Castiel turned ready to abandon the park until he spotted it.

The colt.

Castiel quickly snatched the long sought after item from the park swing and pressed it to his chest. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a flash of bright red hair and whirled around.

The park sign by the road swung back and forth gently in the cold night air. The fading sign read 'St Ellen's Park'. A genuine relieved smile tickled Castiel's plump lips and he ducked his head in gratitude.

"Thank you," he breathed and disappeared into the night.

***

"Scream all you want Jo, but this baby is coming, and when he does I'm taking him home to daddy," Ruby crowed, her hands latching around Jo's ankles like manacles.

Jo twisted and attempted to kick the demon away, but it was a waste effort. After a small fight, Ruby had easily overpowered Jo while fierce contractions continued to batter the already exhausted blonde. Now pinned against the far wall, Jo continued to squirm, claw and kick the demon's attempt to force her into giving birth.

"How – how did you get in?" Jo demanded between gritted teeth. Another contraction had hit, and Jo was using all her strength to fight the instinct to push.

"A friend left me the key to the place," Ruby answered using her head to point out the small acid burns in the concrete. It was barely bigger than a hairpin, but the small slits were enough to render all the devil traps useless. Jo moaned. "But don't worry it'll be over soon enough," The demon assured her with a sly grin. "Well not really. After the baby is born you'll be taking a back seat in your body. That's my reward. My boss promised I could have any meat suit I wanted if I delivered him his vessel."

"Get away from me!" Jo howled, hugging her stomach in agony. She was close. She knew that the next contraction would force her to push no matter how determined she was not to.

"Don't you want to know why I chose you?" Ruby asked. She wrestled Jo's bent legs against her thighs and kept them locked in place. Jo whimpered, shaking her head back and forth. She relentlessly searched the room for some way to help her escape the demon's clutches.

"Burn in hell, bitch." Jo snapped. She took a deep breath and tilted her head back so she could scream for help, "DEAN!"

Laughing, Ruby delighted in continuing to explain her traitorous actions. "The reason I chose you is because I can." Her eyes flickered black. Jo promised herself that if the demons' face moved within arms reach, she would gouge Ruby's eyes out with her bare hands. "That and nothing would be more satisfying than hearing you scream for _my_ mercy."

"I swear to God I'll kill you," Jo vowed, grunting from the strain of struggling against the vice like grip Ruby now had on her.

"Big threat from someone who can't even stand right now," Ruby pointed out. "And we both know that Sam has a bit of a thing for you, so your body is going to help me in oh so many ways."

The contractions in Jo's stomach started to tamper off, and Jo knew she didn't have much time to act before the next wave. Taking a deep breath, she tilted her head back and screamed for all her worth. "DEAN!!!!!!"

She heard feet pounding down the stairs, and she opened her eyes with relief… until Ruby smirked and nodded her head. The heavy steel door slammed shut, and Jo screamed in horror.

"Don't waste your breath," Ruby snarled, and spread Jo's legs wider. "That baby is on his way down. So get ready to push."

"No!" Jo shouted and shook her head. She bit her lip and tried to restrain the urge to push. The contraction hit quicker than the last; Jo screamed and leant forward.

"I can see his head!" Ruby exclaimed excitedly. Jo sobbed, stars dancing in front of her eyes as she tried breathe. "Push you idiot!" Ruby shouted impatiently, and reached forward and jammed her fingers down Jo's throat. As anticipated Jo gagged against the sharp fingers, her muscles pushing down involuntary.

The pain was unbearable. Between gasping for air, and screaming herself hoarse Jo felt her muscles give way and the baby slid free. Momentarily stunned by the sudden relief, she slumped backwards, coughing and gasping for air.

A traumatized screech filled the air.

"He's gorgeous!" Ruby declared, and tied off the umbilical cord. Jo struggled to remain conscious, blood leaking from her mouth. Tossing Jo's legs aside, the demon grabbed the sheets from the bed and bundled the baby in them. "Rest up sweetie," Ruby ordered, trying to sooth the wriggling howling newborn baby. "I'll be back for you and Sam later."

There was a mighty crash, and the bunker door flew open.

***

She was never going to make it.

Squinting through the heavy rain pounding the windscreen of her truck, Ellen sped through the darkness. It was the most violent storm Ellen had witnessed in decades, which only served to confirm her fears that something big was going down. Something so big that it required a trench coat clad businessman to break into the Roadhouse, thrust the infamous colt in her hand, and insist that she arrive at Bobby's house as soon as humanly possible. Upon questioning the man, he explained his presence had to do with the Winchesters, a demon, and her deceased daughter. A second later the man disappeared, and Ernie threw her truck keys at her as she raced out the door.

Slamming her foot down harder on the trucks gas pedal, Ellen pushed the engine as hard as it would go. With each mile the storm grew worse until finally she spotted the turn off to Bobby's property. Passing through the steel archway, she could just make out the familiar black Impala parked around the side of the house, and she stamped down on the brakes. Once the truck was parked, Ellen grabbed the colt, and propelled herself into the raging storm.

A fork of lightning split the sky in half, illuminating her muddy path toward the dark house. By the time she barged through the back door, a monstrous clap of thunder muffled her loud entrance. Slick boots squeaking over the tiles, Ellen surveyed her surroundings warily.

A puddle of blood stained the kitchen floor.

"Ruby!"

Recognising Sam Winchesters horrified cry, Ellen raised the gun in her hand, and crept towards the open basement door. With the aid of a dull light bulb swinging from the ceiling, the elder Harvelle spied Sam standing at the entrance of the bunker, his hand out stretched. Beside him, Dean and Bobby stood with their guns drawn. Ellen inched further down the steps; she could just make out a black-eyed brunette holding a screaming newborn baby in her arms.

"Sorry Sammy boy, but this package has already been signed for by my boss."

With a furious growl, Dean charged passed his brother. "You evil whore!" He bellowed, his voice murderous. "You're not going anywhere with my son!"

Ellen baulked, but before Dean could take another step, the demon raised the squirming baby in front of her. "Ah-ah! I wouldn't!" she warned, eyes flashing in amusement. "You don't want to risk missing and shooting your son instead, do you?" Her smug grin grew wider as Dean hesitated in front of her. "That's what I thought. If you'll excuse me, I've got places to-"

BANG!

The demons' eyes widened in surprised as a bullet pierced through her skull, a red and gold flicker of light causing her body to shudder. Ellen slipped out from behind Bobby just as Dean lunged towards the brunette, his hands sliding through the demons' stunned arms in time to catch the baby. The deceased brunette slumped heavily to the ground.

Ellen maintained a firm grip on the colt as she crept towards the body on the floor. "Is that what I think it is?" Dean exclaimed staring at Ellen in awe while trying to hold on to the hysterical baby in his arms.

"Mom?" Ellen whirled around at the sound of her daughters strained voice. Her hand covered her mouth in shock; dark blood seeped from between Jo's legs, and pooled on the floor beneath her.

"Baby girl, I let you out of my sight for two minutes, and this is what you get up to?" Ellen rushed to her daughter's side, and engulfed her in an enormous hug. "I knew you were alive, I knew it."

"Sam, grab me those towels!" Bobby barked, already lifting Jo's stained t-shirt to inspect the damage. When Sam did not respond, Ellen tore her eyes away from Jo's pale, sweat coated features. The taller Winchester had disappeared. "Elle!"

Ellen clambered to her feet, and snatched the stack of towels off the table and rushed back to Bobby's side. He took them from her without a word and quickly began trying to cease the bleeding.

"Is he ok?" Jo whispered, her eyes roaming around deliriously. It was with a sickening feeling that Ellen recognized the symptoms of someone who was suffering too much blood loss. "Dean? Is he ok? Is our baby safe?"

Surprised, Ellen looked up to see Dean walking towards them carefully. "He's perfect, Jo. Just perfect," he assured her, crouching so that he could show her the baby. "You did it."

Jo nodded, smiling through the exhausted tears spilling from her eyes. She reached out with a fatigued hand, and grazed the side of the baby's face. The reaction was instant, sensing his mother, the baby shifted against Dean; it's tiny wrinkly fingers clawing at the air. He started to wail until Jo slipped her index fingers in between his bloody fingers. Jo smiled adoringly at her son as he latched onto the rest of her hand, his grip surprisingly strong.

"You ready for one final push, Jo?" Bobby asked gently. Ellen looked down stunned to see that Bobby now had on a pair of gloves, and was placing a silver pan between her daughters' legs.

Jo looked at her mom confused; until a wave of pain smashed into her body. Jo arched her back and cried out panicked. "Wha? What's happening? Why… I already had the baby!" The baby started to cry at the sound of Jo's panicked sob and Dean quickly stood up to rock the child back and forth comfortingly. "Castiel didn't say anything about twins?"

"It's not twins, honey," Bobby soothed, and glanced at Ellen. "It's the afterbirth. The placenta needs to come out."

"What?" Jo moaned horrified, and started to squirm away from Bobby. He took her legs and bent her knees, trying to prop her up against the wall again. "But… This never happens on TV!" Jo continued to protest, tears screaming down her face. "Why didn't anyone warn me? I can't do anymore pushing, I can't-"

"Elle, help me here!" Bobby tried to pry Jo's legs open again.

Wrapping an arm around Jo's shoulders, she tried to sooth her petrified daughter. "I know, sweetie - I know." Ellen crooned, running her fingers through the blondes' hair. "But you have to listen to Bobby. You have to push."

Jo's fingers found Ellen's, and she gripped her wrist painfully. "Please, Mom. I can't-"

"Come on, just once more. You can do it."

Jo shook her head defiantly. "No. It's too much. I can't-" she sagged against the wall, her eyes fluttering dangerously. Ellen reached out and squeezed her daughters' arms, trying to keep her awake. Jo moaned, and abruptly sat up as the final contraction began building in strength.

"Joanna Beth, push!"

"No!" Jo hollered and leant forward, bracing her feet against Bobby. The room was thrown into sudden darkness. Jo opened her mouth to scream at the same time thunder boomed overhead, and cyclonic winds began to beat against the side of the house.

"What in the hell?" Bobby exclaimed.

"That seriously can't be good-" Dean was abruptly cut off by the sound of his cell phone ringing in his pocket. Ellen caught sight of a flashing blue light as Dean struggled to pull a phone out of his pocket, and nurse the crying baby. "Cas?"

"Mom?" Despite the darkness, Ellen sensed her daughter was looking at her pleadingly.

"It's okay, honey - everything is ok. The storm just knocked the power out."

"I'm sorry." The fingers that had been digging into her wrist suddenly loosened, and Ellen gasped.

"Jo?" She urged, her hand blindly seeking out her daughters pulse. "JO?!"

* * *

Okay, now that I've officially scared myself out of EVER having kids LOL Thoughts? Questions? Threats? :D


	20. Chapter 20

**Rating: **M

**A/N: **A massive, massive thank you to Ella for helping me with this chapter. I was on the point of giving up and deleting everything because I just couldn't get this chapter right, but she offered a kind ear and let me rant and rave and bounce ideas of her. Thanks Ella - I owe you one! Also a thank you to Hannah for also letting me throw a bunch of drafts at her and for being an awesome and patient beta! Lastly I would like to apologize to everyone for making you all wait so long for a new update - I did get your emails (and your threats lol), and I appreciate the encouragement and support. I really hope you like this latest chapter :D

* * *

'**The Devils Rejects'**

Slipping stealthily through the hospital, Sam searched the busy maternity ward for a nurse that was currently being possessed by a demon. The demon in question was rumoured to hold a position of significant importance with Lilith, and Sam was sure this was the demon he needed to speak to in order to obtain the answers he desperately needed.

And then he was going to kill Lilith.

'_Everything was a lie. Everything,'_ Sam mused bitterly, the urge to hit something repeatedly burning inside his fists. _'Ruby used me. I thought she was one of us, I thought she was good. How could I be so stupid? Dean was right… all along… Dean was right… Ruby wanted the baby all along... Oh God, Dean is never going to forgive me... If Ellen hadn't shown up in time…'_

Several tired parents milling around the ward sent curious glances his way, but he ignored them all. He didn't have time to trick the public into believing that he was just another expectant father; the only thing he had time for was revenge.

"We're gonna take you to the nursery, sugar – let mommy and daddy get some sleep." Sam spied a young nurse wheeling a newborn baby from a hospital room. Instantly suspicious, he observed her movements until he was sure he had found what he was looking for. "He's a beautiful child. Absolutely scrumptious."

Jaw hardening, Sam kept as still as he possibly could while the demon continued to sing smugly to the child. He followed her, slipping through the doors unseen by any of the hospital staff. _'I refuse to be played anymore. It's my turn. It's my turn to take charge...to inflict pain. I'm going to make Lilith pay for everything she has done to my family.'_

Sam raised his hand. Before the demon had a chance to sense his presence, he pinned her roughly against the cement wall using his mind. Anger coursed through his body, allowing him to focus and maintain a heavy grip on the struggling demon. "So," he remarked, barely restraining the rage in his voice. "We need to talk."

***

"Any change?"

"No, she's still out cold."

"Maybe something is wrong? There was so much blood… Bobby, are you sure she's not in a coma or something?"

"Dean, for the hundredth time she is going to be fine. She's just exhausted. Trust me."

"But-"

Jo dragged herself back into consciousness when the voices buzzing around her head continued to increase in volume. She attempted to pry her eyes open, her lids heavy and sore. Sniffing, Jo tried to make sense of her environment by listening intently. There was a heated conversation behind her, the familiar sound of rain pounding against the side of Bobby's house… and something else… something new… but instantly recognizable.

Crying.

The whimpering forced Jo to use what was left of her depleted willpower to peel her right eye open, and look for her son. A small orange light by her face burnt her pupils, causing her eye to retreat back behind her thick eyelashes. After a few seconds of staring at the dark spot behind her lids, she sluggishly squinted past the candle's flame, and scanned the room. In one small blink, her limited vision focused on the back of Dean's head. She blinked again, and this time Dean turned around. Tiny hands danced in between the soft folds of a blue blanket, the tips of the wrinkled fingers grazing the small gold charm around Dean's neck.

"Jo? Honey? You with us this time? You had us worried for a second."

Recognising her mom's husky voice, she forced both of her eyes open. A matching set of brown eyes stared down at her hopefully. Jo opened her mouth to respond, but the action felt restrained and sluggish. Her eyes flicked down towards her body. Someone had dressed her in Dean's oversized flannel shirt and placed her on the bed. Fresh sheets adorned her bare legs.

"I found another ward in the upstairs bathroom. That demon did a bang up job squirreling them everywhere."

Bobby entered her line of sight, and deposited a small brown bag inside a trashcan containing a small fire. Seconds after it ignited a putrid smell escaped the bin and almost caused her to gag. Bobby added another bag and the blue flames attempted to lick the exhausted looking hunter. Jo tried to ignore the smell by breathing through her mouth.

"Honey, are you in any pain?"

Confused, she lifted her eyes towards her mom. Large splotches of blood stained the elder Harvelle's clothes. Jo opened her mouth to question her mom on whose blood it was, but her tongue felt swollen and heavy in her mouth. She closed her mouth and settled for shaking her head.

"Dammit Sam, pick up!"

Her eyes skittered across the room towards Dean. Bouncing back and forth slightly to calm the fussing baby, Dean continued to mutter insults into the cell phone jammed against his ear. The distressed wails intensified, awakening the instincts clawing inside Jo's chest. _'My son needs me. My son. I have a son… and he's ok. He's alive. Ruby's dead. She tried to take him, but… mom… mom's here. She saved him. He's safe.'_ The information continued to wash through her sleepy brain.

Dean shoved his cell phone in his pocket, and captured the baby's fingers with his pinkie. "Come on little dude, it's ok. I'm sorry I scared you, but your uncle is a douche bag and wont pick up his phone, which means he's probably doing something stupid and I'm going to have to kick his ass when I find him."

The baby continued to squirm in Dean's arms, his little hands curling into fist. The more Dean tried to adjust the baby into a comfortable position the more he cried and wiggled.

"Dean, he's probably hungry," Ellen prompted gently from beside Jo. "We can try feeding him now that Jo's awake."

Dean turned towards them; a relieved smile spreading across his face when he saw Jo was awake. Jo returned the smile. The baby's impatient cries increased in volume, and Dean quickly crossed the room. Jo struggled to lift her stiff arms, impatiently moving her head towards Dean so she could see her son properly.

"He's got a decent set of lungs on him," Dean assured her proudly. He bent over to delicately place the squirming baby against her chest. "It's about time you woke up, anyone would think you're tired or something."

Jo answered him with an unimpressed glare. Ignoring his apologetic smile, she looked down and felt the breath tumble from her lungs. _'He's so tiny'_. Her eyes trailed over the baby's wispy blonde hair, the small smattering of freckles on his nose and the bright red lips that stretched open as he cried. Dean had been right; he was perfect. Jo was so overcome by the surge of emotions that slammed into her heart, that she was worried she was going to pass out again, but the feeling eased and she realised that suddenly every tear, every hour of pain, every second of panic had been worth it.

Tears stole her vision temporarily, but the impatient wailing coming from their son stopped them in their tracks. "Okay honey, why don't you try feeding him now?" Ellen suggested helpfully. Suddenly nervous and unsure, Jo looked down at the scrunched up red face in her arms. "Here," Ellen moved forward and helped her pull back her shirt. "Just relax and guide him to your nipple."

Heart beating franticly, her arms awkward and stiff, Jo finally managed to adjust her position until his tiny head was resting comfortably in her arms. She brought his squawking mouth to her breast, and tried not to hiss when his eager lips clamped down on her tender nipple.

Nothing happened.

Frowning, Jo felt the insistent tug at her nipple but no milk came free. Her heart picked up its tempo, doubt clouding her mind. _'What's wrong me? Am I broken? Did I not produce any milk because of the sped up pregnancy? What if he starves? What kind of a mother am I? I can't do this! Why can't I do this?'_ The baby pulled away and started to howl and thrash back and forth. Panicked, Jo looked up at her mom. "What did I do wrong?"

"Nothing," Ellen crooned, gently lifting the other side of Jo's shirt. "This happens sometimes. Try the other breast."

After some hesitation, Jo finally switched arms, and repeated her earlier motions. Fretfully, she studied his every movement, waiting hopefully for him to latch onto her other nipple. There was the same frantic tugging, a clenching in her lower abdomen and then finally it happened. Her son started to greedily suckle at the milk flowing from her breast, and the sound of his lips slurping against her skin filled the air.

Jo let out a relieved sigh, and sunk back into the pillows behind her. "There you go - you did it." Ellen beamed, running an affectionate hand through Jo's hair.

"Woah - look at him go," Dean observed, peeking over Jo's shoulder so he could see what was happening. Jo chuckled at his blatant curiosity until she noticed that her mom was giving Dean a disapproving look. "Where's Bobby?" she asked her mom, hoping to avoid any criticism or lectures from the elder Harvelle.

"I think he went to search the house again," Dean mused glancing over at the fire dying down in the trashcan. He took a seat on the edge of the bed. Jo glanced to her left and saw that someone had washed away the blood that had stained the floor where she given birth. She grimaced, the memory still filling her with anxiety.

Everything had happened at once, and everything was still a jumble of images and sounds in her head. Flashes of blood, screaming, black eyes, and the infamous colt stained the edges of her memory until she slowly started to sort them in to some kind of order.

"So, Bobby tells me you've had quite a couple of months." Ellen stated, interrupting Jo's musing. Jo opened her mouth to intervene when her mom crossed her arms over her chest and levelled Dean with a furious glare. "What are you allergic to giving me peace of mind, Winchester?"

Taken off guard, Dean opened and closed his mouth, his spluttering eliciting a grin from Jo. "Ellen, I-I'm sorry… I… we-" Dean started, but was cut off by a wave of Ellen's hand.

"Don't even start," the older woman warned. "When things calm down you can bet your sorry ass that you and me are going to have a serious talk… _son_."

Jo bit down on her lip to stop from laughing. She had no doubt that the serious talk would not bode well for the cocky Winchester. She glanced down at the newest addition to the Winchester clan, and moved her hand to gently caress his tiny face. A content sigh escaped her lips when he reached out and wrapped his hand around her pinkie.

"First things first, though." Ellen prompted, her face serious. "What am I supposed to call my beautiful grandson?"

***

"Son of a bitch!" Lilith slammed the blood filled chalice down on top of the white marble alter. "What do you mean Ruby is dead?" Eyes burning with vehemence, she lifted her hand and swung the main doors shut, successfully blocking the view of the room from the curious group of demons lining the hallway.

The curly haired demon in front of her, who had suffered the unfortunate duty of reporting the news of Ruby's death, dropped to his knees and began to rock back and forth nervously. "I'm sorry – b-but it is true. I kept watch like you asked and Ruby was shot by an older woman." He glanced up, his black eyes filled with fear. "She had the colt."

"_The_ Colt?" Lilith exclaimed, the information only serving to fuel the fury pulsating through her veins. "But I ordered the stupid thing to be melted down months ago."

Cowering in fright, the demon stuttered, "I- I d-didn't know… I should have stopped the woman… I-I didn't think it was the real colt until I saw Ruby die."

"I am surrounded by idiots!" Lilith roared, and swept her hand over the marble alter furiously. The contents flew across the room, blood from the chalice splattering against the wall. Lilith screamed furiously and stamped her foot on the ground, a portion of the cement cracking under the force. "I knew I never should have agreed to that ingrates plan. I _knew _she couldn't pull something this big off!" She picked up the submissive demon by the throat and shook him.

He whimpered, but did not fight her ministrations. "Forgive me," he gasped, his eyes rolling about in their sockets.

Lilith glared at the demon, taking no delight in the demon's obvious terror. His neck was not the one she wanted to ring. "So now the Angels have the child, and all our hard work was for _nothing_?"

"I-I.."

The ground beneath her trembled.

Fearing the wrath of Lucifer himself, she stopped shaking the demon and froze. The doors to the room rattled. "Shh!" She hissed, dropping the demon. He sagged to the floor gasping for air. With a twist of her hand she opened the door to reveal a startling empty hallway. The twenty something demons she had recruited to stand guard had vanished. "Where-" she turned to face the demon she had just scolded… only to find she was alone.

Lilith tasted panic in her mouth. It was a foul and long forgotten taste. Taking a cautious step backwards, her eyes roamed the empty hallway searching for the vengeful Angels she imagined capable of such a silent attack.

"Show yourself!" She shouted, backing towards the alter. She knew the Angels wouldn't kill her, which was worse, because she had heard of the ways Archangels liked to imprison demons that possessed sensitive information about Lucifer.

"If you insist."

Sam Winchester rounded the corner, his face twisted with a vicious smile. Lilith relaxed. While Ruby had failed to deliver the vessel, she had at least managed to fulfil her part of the big plan concerning the sensitive Winchester.

"You don't look surprised to see me," Sam observed, pausing at the entrance to the sanctuary.

Lilith shrugged, a smile forming on her lips. "I wondered how long it would take you to figure it all out."

The hunters' eyes darkened, and Lilith indulged in the smell of anger, hurt and lust for revenge. "Ruby's dead," he pointed out bluntly, raising his hand. "And now, so are you."

"Well, then, what are you waiting for?"

***

If there was one human word to describe the state Heaven was in; it was pandemonium.

Zachariah despised disorder. He liked things to be simple. Clean. Orderly.

Instead, the air around him was saturated with fear, distrust and confusion. He could barely stand in line with his colleagues as they awaited their new orders.

Their superior, the Archangel Raguel, stood before the choir of Angels, his attention focused on Raziel as he ordered the Archangel to council the Seraphims and calm the already sensitive Cherubs. Raziel, however, was resistant to the orders, and continued to shake his head defiantly. His continued attempts to persuade Raguel to allow him to join Michael, caused the Angels beside Zachariah to shift nervously. No assembly of lower rank Angels had ever witnessed such a blatant lack of cooperation between the higher authorities before. That is, not since the days of Lucifer.

The comparison was unsettling.

"Zachariah?"

Breaking ranks, he glided forward smoothly. Lifting his head proudly, he drew himself to his full height. Now was his chance to prove himself. He would fulfil his duties effortlessly, as he had always done, and he would demonstrate that not all Angels were as disrespectful as Raziel. "You requested my presence?"

Raguel nodded, a calm and patient mask in place to conceal any evidence of stress or concern. Though despite the Archangels attempts to shield them from his innermost thoughts, Zachariah clearly sensed the Archangels distress.

They were losing.

It was a rare event when an Angel fell from Heaven, but in one earth day nineteen angels had fled in fear of Lucifers return, and had cast themselves towards the earth to hide. Zachariah blamed Anna solely for the cause of sudden disobedience, refusing to believe that his once resilient and courageous home was starting to quiver with trepidation.

"I need you to assist Castiel in preventing Sam Winchester from breaking the final seal."

Zachariah attempted to cover his surprise, but it was a struggle. "You want me to stop him?" he questioned, ignoring the gossiping whispers behind him. "But I was under the impression that we wanted the seal to be broken so that we could deal with the Lucifer problem once and for all?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Zachariah spied Sasgabiel shaking his head. He bristled at the sight. "You are mistaken," Raguel responded calmly. "Your mission will be to assist Castiel in saving the humans in his charge." The Archangel turned to his left. "Sasgabiel? I would appreciate it if you would also join your brother with his mission."

Sasgabiel stepped forward, and bowed his head in deep respect. Zachariah squashed the urge to roll his eyes. "Shall I summon Melakim to assist with maintaining a guardianship over the child before I leave?"

Raguel nodded. "Excellent thinking. Take Laharielwith you as well. We have not received word about any planned strikes against the child, but we cannot afford to be lenient with our security. It is God's will that we protect this child. He must be kept safe until he can join us." His eyes rested upon Zachariah. "Do I make myself clear, Zachariah?"

Resisting the desire to scowl, Zachariah shook his head dutifully. He straightened his shoulders stiffly. "Yes, Raguel. I shall assist Castiel immediately."

"Good. Has anyone received word from Cadmiel yet? I have special instructions for her as well."

Dismissed, Zachariah left Heaven without another word. However, unlike his brothers and sisters, he did not descended to the stairs of the Singer residence. Instead he arrived exactly where he thought his services were more accurately required.

St Mary's Convent.

***

"How about Dean Jnr?"

Jo rolled her eyes. "You're joking right?"

"Ok, what about Bruce Wayne?"

"You are not naming our kid after Batman."

"Jack Daniel?"

"Dean," Jo pleaded, reaching over to sweep some of the baby's hair into place. He was asleep, finally, after a lot of fussing and whimpering. They had given up on the crib Bobby had acquired after discovering that the baby only settled when he was being fed or was tucked securely in Dean's arm. "Seriously."

"Seriously?" Dean scrunched his face up in thought; still rocking back and forth slightly despite the fact the baby was now asleep. "I got nothing."

"You need to give him a strong name." Bobby prompted from across the room. He was still repairing all the holes in the devils traps. "Something that isn't from a movie."

"What was wrong with Rocky?" Dean defended, frowning at the hunter.

"What about a family name?" Jo suggested helpfully, giving Dean a pointed look. "What was your grandfathers name?"

Dean shrugged. "Well dad was named after his dad, and my mom's dad was called Samuel." He glanced down at the baby in his arms. "But we don't want your girly uncle getting a big head by naming you after him - do we, Junior?"

"But didn't you say you were named after your mom's family?" Jo questioned him curiously.

Dean ducked his head embarrassed. "Yeah."

Bobby chuckled. "His grandmother was called Deana," he explained sharing an amused grin with Ellen.

Jo smirked, delighted by the information. Dean turned to Bobby and frowned at the older man. "Thanks a lot, Bobby. You can forget about us naming the kid after you now."

"I'm fine with that."

"What about Anthony?" Ellen suggested quietly, glancing over at the baby in Dean's arms. The baby's eyes opened sleepily, and Jo clapped her hands together happily. Ellen beamed. "I think he likes it."

Dean nodded in agreement. "That's kinda cool. I could call him 'Tony' or 'Ant'." He glanced at Jo and titled his head. "Isn't that your dad's middle name?"

Jo nodded, and after a small glance at her mom she turned back to him. "Yeah, but we could call him Anthony John Winchester if you want?"

"It's a strong name." Bobby observed. He stood up from the devils trap, and picked up the last of the bags on the table. "There. I've fixed everything I can think of, and this is the last one of the bags," Bobby declared, throwing the Angel wards he had found inside the walls into the trashcan. No sooner had the flames lapped the edge of the bag than a disgruntled Castiel appeared instantaneously. Two other Angels accompanied him.

"You need to leave with me immediately," Castiel announced, his eyes centring on the sleeping child in Dean's arms. The baby stirred, his tiny fingers reaching out and grasping the amulet around Dean's neck.

Standing up, Dean surveyed the new arrivals with suspicious eyes. "Who are they?" he questioned, holding his son tighter to his body.

Castiel frowned, but answered Dean's question. He pointed to the female Angel standing on his left side. "This is Melakim - she will help keep watch over your son." The male Angel on Castiel's right side straightened his shoulders importantly. "And this is Sasgabiel – he will assist us with your brother." He pointed outside. "And Lahariel has offered to maintain guardianship over this residence until you return. He will raise the alarm if he senses any demons coming within a twenty mile radius."

"Do you have any idea where Sam is?" Dean asked, frowning at the two new Angels as they continued to stare at his son without blinking.

"He has managed to track down Lilith." Castiel replied grimly. "We believe he intends to stop Lilith breaking the final seal."

"So?" Bobby retorted, stepping beside Dean. "Isn't that a good thing?"

Castiel turned to Bobby, clearly frustrated by Bobby's input. "Lilith _is_ the final seal."

"What?" Dean snapped, his jaw dropping. The baby began to fuss, and he immediately started to bounce back and forth slightly to sooth him. "What do you mean she's the final seal?" He questioned, the tone in his voice quieter but no less urgent. "But… why the_ hell_ didn't you tell us this a long time ago? Why now?"

"Dean," Jo warned from the bed. She held out her hands. "Let me take him. You're upsetting him."

Dean's eyes dropped down guiltily to see that his son's eyes were now open. His small hands shifted and pushed against Dean's tight grasp. Instantly relaxing his hands, Dean glanced apologetically at Jo. With a hesitant breath, he finally relinquished the baby to her open arms, and instantly mourned the absence of the small weight.

"We need to leave."

Fear gripped the inside of his stomach, and his eyes instantly flicked towards Jo. She was still very pale despite her insistence that she felt OK, and everyone in the room looked exhausted and on edge. A nervous tension licked at the back of his brain, and Dean glanced at Bobby for assurance. The older man placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'll protect them with my life, I promise."

"I know you will, Bobby-" He turned to Castiel, doubt etched across his features. "Are you sure she's the_ final_ seal?"

"Dean," Jo urged gently. The baby had settled in her arms, his tiny hand pressed up against her chest. "Go find your brother and make sure he's ok." She insisted, her gaze sympathetic. "We'll be ok."

Huffing, Dean nodded. But before Castiel could raise his hand to his forehead, he broke free and dashed over to Jo. She opened her mouth to question him, but he quickly placed a kiss to her lips. He felt her smile under his lips, and he pulled back and dropped a kiss on his son's forehead. "I'll be right back," he assured them.

Taking the offered Colt from Ellen, Dean sent Jo one last longing look before allowing Castiel to press his fingers to his forehead. A second later Dean opened his eyes and realised he was standing in the dark hallway in front of a creepy looking Angel statue.

"Hurry! There isn't much time left," Castiel hissed and they rushed down the hallway.

***

Sam lowered his hand. The back of his neck prickled, alerting him to the sudden presence behind him. He released his grip on the demon, and Lilith slumped to the ground panting. Craning his neck, he peered over his shoulder. A well-dressed man in his early fifties loitered by the doorway calmly.

"Don't stop on my account," the stranger assured him with a wave of his hand. "I'm just here for the show."

Instantly suspicious, Sam quickly scanned his surroundings, searching for a demon poised to attack. His body tensed, ready to fight. "Who are you?" Sam snarled, his eyes studying the man for an indication of his true intentions. "What are you doing here?"

"My name is Zachariah," the stranger explained with a confident smile. "I'm a friend of Castiel."

Lilith laughed.

Sam turned around, and raised his hand to silence her. She clawed at the invisible force pinning her painfully to the marble alter behind her. "I'm sorry, but-" she gasped, laughter still evident in her tone. Intrigued, Sam loosed his grip enough so that she could continue. "I just find it adorable that you have your own cheer squad." Lilith rasped out. "Where's Dean? Shouldn't he be waving his pom-poms?"

Sam growled, disappointed that she was not about to confess any important information. He increased the pressure around her neck again, enjoying the flutter of panic in her eyes. "You don't need to worry about him, he's busy looking after his son."

"You mean the one you almost offered to us on a plate?" she accused smugly. He felt her attempt to buck against his grip, and bathed in the fact that he was the one in control for a change. It was her life he held in her hands, and it was _his_ decision if he wanted her to live or die. The knowledge was intoxicating. "I could have snatched that baby away in a heart beat if I really wanted to," Lilith protested lamely.

"So why didn't you?" Sam taunted, increasing his pressure. She began to cough and wheeze, the frantic desperate look in her eyes an indication that she was close to passing out. Sam relinquished some of the force and she instantly doubled over, greedily filling her lungs with oxygen.

Instead of looking grateful or at the very least, submissive, Sam was incensed when she smirked up at him between breaths. "Because it was much more fun seeing you like this." She raised her head, her light blue tinged lips twisting into a self-satisfied smile. "Drained any innocent humans lately?"

Surprised, Sam almost forgot to keep his grip on the conceited demon. He turned to face Zachariah with an apologetic expression stretched across his face. "I-I-" he spluttered. "It's not… there was a demon-"

The Angel, Zachariah, held up his hand dismissively. "None of that matters anymore, Sam," he insisted, his green eyes full of understanding. "All that matters is that you finish what you started. Kill Lilith."

Bewildered, Sam turned around to face Lilith. She was still smiling, though he caught the flicker of confusion in her eyes when she glanced at the Angel. His head burned with indecision. "Are you going to kill me or not?" Lilith taunted, holding her head high. "Because if you're going to just stand there then I promise you I will be done with this and I will go and collect my prize." A feral grin crossed her features. "Ever wondered where that lullaby '_Rock-a-bye Baby_' originated?"

Rage coursed through his hand, and Sam threw all his remaining strength against the laughing demon. Her laughter died as soon as the breath was forced out of her lungs, and her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Sam tried to ignore her screams echoing in his head, his hands shaking with exhaustion as he drained the life from her.

"SAM!"

Distracted, Sam sluggishly turned around and spied Zachariah leaning against the now locked door. He frowned. "Do it, Sam!" The Angel urged pointing to Lilith behind him. "Finish her. Finish her now!"

Nodding, Sam turned back to Lilith.

"Sam, No!"

Sam registered the sound of Dean bursting through the doors just as Lilith slumped to the ground lifelessly. Shaking with fatigue, Sam turned to face his brother… and was taken aback by the devastated look on his brothers' face. "Dean?" he whispered, swaying slightly as the adrenaline leaked from his body.

Dean was not alone. Accompanying him was a furious looking Castiel and a tall blonde haired man carrying a silver sword. The three of them stared at Lilith slumped on the floor. His brother swore profusely.

"You're too late, Castiel. It is done!" Zachariah boasted to the trio.

Castiel and his companion turned to face the gloating Zachariah. Before the grey haired Angel could open his mouth, Castiel struck the Angel brutally in the face. The sound of thunder rumbled through the room upon impact.

Dean and Sam gawked at the normally reserved Angel. Castiel towered over Zachariah, his clenched fists now restrained against his side. The Angel carrying the sword beside Castiel turned to observe Castiel with a surprised look.

"That the best you can do, Castiel?" Zechariah hissed, rubbing his jaw and glaring at the trench coat clad Angel. "No wonder you-"

"What in the hell?" Dean murmured, his hand closing around Sam's bicep. Sam allowed himself to be dragged backwards while he gapped at the blood trickling from an exposed wound in Lilith's head. The thick liquid moved at it's own accord, forming a rough circle on the floor.

"We need to leave," Castiel snapped, turning away from Zachariah and taking a step towards them. Dean's hand tightened around Sam's arm. "The final seal has been broken and we must leave before Lucifer emerges from hell."

"What?" Sam baulked, his incredulous eyes bouncing from Castiel, to his brother to Lilith. "No… No," he spluttered watching the blood continue to steadily creep across the floor. His mind was a mess of thoughts, and he desperately tried to put it all together. _'The final seal? No… she can't be. Zachariah… he would of… no, how is she the final seal? Why? What? Huh?_' Sam turned to Dean, desperate for answers to the questions leaping around his brain. "I stopped Lilith – I.. I… this isn't…" A thick puddle of blood stretched towards him and he lifted his foot to smear the blood with his shoe.

"No, Sam - Don't!" Castiel hollered in warning, and reached out to grab the younger Winchester by the arm.

It was too late.

Sam cried out in surprise as his feet were suddenly yanked out from under him. Dean's grip was torn from his arm and Sam hit the floor painfully. Rolling over to see what had attacked him, Sam was violently wrenched into the middle of the blood circle.

"SAM!" Dean shouted in surprise, and made a lunge for him. Castiel caught Dean by the lapel, and wrapped his arms around the struggling man's waist. "Sam!" Dean continued to shout and buck against the Angel. "Lemme go, Cas… SAM!"

Legs burning inside an invisible flame, Sam opened his mouth to cry out in agony. Craning his neck, his cry was trapped in his throat when he spotted six pairs of twisted bloody hands slithering out of a crack in the ground. He tried to kick them away, but they coiled around his legs like ropes.

"SAM!"

Sam twisted around to see his hysterical brother being pinned down by the three Angels. All of them wore the same horrified expression.

The ground beneath him started to ripple and shift. Desperate to pull himself free from the insistent hands, Sam threw his arms out and tried to find something to pull him free. A beastly grumble escaped from underneath his struggling body, and Sam's eyes widened in fear as the ground began to disintegrate.

Pain seized Sam's body, and the bloody hands brutally tightened around his waist. He threw his head back and screamed for help. "DEAN!" The grumbling from below increased in magnitude and the ground gave way, sending Sam headfirst into darkness.

"SAM!"

***

The baby wouldn't stop screaming.

Jo continued to pace nervously around the room, bouncing the crying baby up and down and rubbing his back soothingly. She didn't understand what had happened. One minute he had been sleeping peacefully in her arms, and the next he was screaming for all his worth.

He was inconsolable. She had tried everything from breast-feeding to singing, to a warm bath - but nothing worked. Bobby repeatedly insisted that it was just because of the storm raging outside, and her mom had even suggested that maybe it was just gas in his small stomach. Jo disagreed.

Something was wrong.

Trying to keep her own fears out of the tone of her voice, she continued to pace back and forth inside the bunker. "Daddy will be home soon, it's okay baby. It's ok. Shhh. Everything is ok. You're safe," she soothed, caressing his tear stained face. His wailing continued. Jo was petrified he was going to hurt himself if he kept crying. She kissed his forehead, each scream like a stab wound to her chest. "Come on sweetie," she begged. "It's ok. I'm here."

"Well it's official. The apocalypse is here." Bobby entered the bunker with a radio, and waved the stressed Harvelle women towards him.

"What's happened?"

"The world has gone nuts." Bobby explained regretfully. "Riots have broken out across America, the sea has turned red, there's a locus plague ravaging Australia, famine has wiped out Africa, disease has spread through all of Asia, Antarctica is melting rapidly, the list goes on. People have lost their freaking minds. The news stations can barely keep up with everything."

Jo glanced at her mom fearfully. "Which means they didn't get to Sam in time," she mused, fear prickling her spine. She clutched her son to her chest tightly. "Lucifer is free."

***

"Sam! Sam!" Knuckles bleeding, Dean repeatedly beat the ground with his fists where his brother had disappeared. The moment the crack had opened wide enough to allow Sam through, the ground had quickly resealed itself. The smooth surface mocked Dean as he continued to stamp and punch the ground. "Sam, hold on!"

Dean searched the room desperately for something that would assist him in cracking the concrete. He spotted a metal candlestick holder, and raced towards it, taking hold of the object roughly. The candles scattered across the ground, hot wax pouring over his hands - but he barely registered the pain. Determined to rescue his brother, he started to slam the metal object into the ground.

It was useless.

"Cas, help me!" Any other time he would have cringed at how desperate and vulnerable he sounded, but blind panic overrode any inhibitions.

"Dean, your actions are wasted. We need to leave." Castiel urged, taking a tentative step towards the distressed man. He raised his hand to touch Dean's forehead, but Zachariah took hold of his sleeve, and wrenched him violently to the side.

"Oh, no you don't! He's not going anywhere. When Lucifer rises in his new vessel Dean _has_ to finish him. We need to strike before Lucifer gains his strength back!" Zachariah commanded, his eyes flashing with vehemence. He pointed an accusing finger at the distressed Winchester. "You have to finish what you started."

"Castiel, we need to escape while we still can," Sasgabiel pleaded, pointedly ignoring Zachariah. "We need to warn the others."

"We have to see this through!" Zachariah argued, glaring at Sasgabiel. He withdrew a long silver knife from his pocket. "We need to kill Lucifer before he attempts to storm Heaven."

"Speak of the Devil, and the Devil shall appear."

The metal candlestick holder clattered to the ground loudly. Sam stood by the stained glass window, an amused smile widening in reaction to the stunned faces in the room. "Sam!" Dean shouted, and took a step towards his brother. "You're ok! What happened? How did you get out?"

"Get back, Dean!" Sasgabiel lunged in between Dean and Sam, his sword drawn defensively. "In the name of God I command you to-" He was abruptly silenced when Sam took hold of the Angels wrist, and twisted his wrist until the sword pointed back towards the alarmed Angel. A second later Sam pushed against Sasgabiel's arm, and the sword slid through the Angels throat.

Sasgabiel fell slowly to his knees in front of Dean, a spasmodic flicker of white light appearing behind the Angels eyes. "Sam?" Dean whimpered horrified. The Angel slumped to the floor lifelessly.

Sam chuckled, the action cold and unsettling. "Not even close." He took a deep breath, and stretched his arms over his head. "Wow, the fresh air up here really does do wonders for the soul."

"Lucifer," Zachariah growled, his eyes alight with righteous fury. "You dare to show your face?"

Lucifer raised his eyebrows upon recognizing the bushy eye browed man standing in front of Castiel. "Zachariah?" He took a step towards the arrogant Angel, grinning when Zachariah took a cautious step backwards. "Still the same supercilious Angel I see." With a casual flick of his finger, Zachariah was dragged bodily across the room. "Pride's a sin you know?" Lucifer bent down, and casually withdrew the sword from Sasgabiel's limp body.

"Lucifer, stop!" Castiel boomed, his voice full of vehemence as he took an authoritative step towards the condemned Angel. "Cease this madness and return to perdition before it's too late."

"Let me think about it for a minute," Lucifer replied sarcastically, and pressed a thoughtful finger to his lips. He smirked. "How about… _No_?" He plunged the sword into Zachariah neck without warning. The same light flickered inside the Angel before dissolving. Zachariah slid to the ground, his skull slapping against the concrete. Dean eyed the evil Angel possessing his brother's body warily. "I've got a much better idea." Lucifer took a defiant step towards Castiel, his sword raised.

"Get out of my brother you slimy cockroach!" Dean hollered, charging towards Lucifer fanatically. He withdrew the colt from his pocket, and aimed it at the treacherous Angel. Lucifer chuckled, and with a small nod Dean went crashing backwards into the marble alter.

"Take a seat, Dean, before you hurt yourself," Lucifer turned back to Castiel, eying the Angel with satisfaction. "Now, Castiel - you have something I need."

Castiel straightened his shoulders, his eyes blazing with contempt. "I will surely die before I assist you in returning to Heaven."

"But I could give you what you've always wanted, Castiel," Lucifer responded, tilting his head to the side pleadingly. "I could give you a life. A _mortal_ life. You could be free. You could live however you chose. You could _love_ whom ever you wanted without the threat of death."

Castiel dismissed Lucifers offer with a look of disdain. "Though I should walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil-"

"Oh wait, I know this one**. **_For thou art with me. Thy rod and thy staff, they will comfort me_.**"** Lucifer paused, his eyes flashing with mirth. "Did I leave anything out, _brother_?" He took another carefully measured step towards Castiel, the sword never wavering.

"Stay away from him you evil son of a bitch!" Dean shouted, and made a dive for the colt by the Angels feet. He made it two steps before Lucifer dragged his feet out from under him. With a simple jerk of his hand, he suspended Dean upside down in the air.

"Dean, Dean, Dean." Lucifer clicked his tongue, shaking his head with disapproval.

Castiel charged towards Lucifer, his eyes ablaze with vehemence. Seemingly anticipated the Angels move, he quickly sidestepped Castiel's sword, and sent him crashing through the stained glass window behind Dean. Amused, Lucifer turned his attention to the struggling Winchester when Castiel did not immediately return.

"Put me down, you egotistical, no good-"

"Enough," Lucifer started to scold Dean, when the Winchester suddenly pitched his small hunting knife at the devil. Lucifer removed the object protruding from his arm irritably. "I should kill you for that," he warned, tossing the knife on the ground. "But you'll just have to wait a little longer, because I have no intention of killing you yet. In fact I'm counting on you to be alive. You see - I need you to do me a favour Dean. I need your permission."

Dean nodded, blood already surging to his head. He stopped struggling and attempted to lift his head so that he didn't pass out. "Sure, yeah ok. You have my permission… to shove it up your ass."

Lucifer chuckled, and turned his hand so that Dean was now upright, but still suspended in the air. "Clever. But no, I'm deadly serious. It's just a small favour - just a simple _Yes_ will suffice, and you can have your brother back."

"Dean-" Castiel interrupted, materializing by the doorway to the sanctuary. Blood poured from a wound in the back of his head, a piece of glass wedge behind his left ear. He staggered as he took a step towards them, and Dean grimaced when he saw that a part of the Angels skull was exposed. "Don't listen to him. He will fill your head with lies-"

"Zip it, _Cas_," Lucifer hissed, and sent Castiel hurtling back into the hallway. The deteriorating Angel tried to climb back to his feet, yet his effort was wasted when Lucifer hurled the silver sword at the Angel. Dean cried out as the sword pierced Castiel's chest and sent him tumbling heavily into the wall. "Stay out of it, brother. This doesn't concern you."

Castiel coughed, blood leaking steadily from his nose and mouth. He didn't make a move to stand. Instead, he peered through a swollen bloody eye at the hanging Winchester. "Dean… no matter what… don't let him-."

Lucifer growled and drove the sword further through the Angels chest. "Let me what?" he hissed furiously. "Tell Dean the truth? Let him make his own choices? No, Castiel. I'm not going to fill his head with lies. I don't _need_ to. I'm going to tell him the truth – it's up to him if he wants to save his brother or not."

"What are you talking about?" Dean grunted, twisting uncomfortably in the air. Growing increasingly frustrated, he bucked against his invisible restraints. "Put me down you mother –"

"Say, please." Lucifer flicked his hand and Dean plummeted to the ground. Hissing in pain, Dean slowly climbed to his feet. He spotted the colt under the broken window. "How stupid do you think I am?" The colt slid past Dean, and came to a stop by Lucifer's feet. Bending down, the Devil picked up the offensive weapon and turned it over in his hand. "Such a simple device and yet it has caused so much irritation for so many of my children." Without another word his fingers closed over the gun tightly and Dean watched in horror as the colt dissolved into a million pieces. Dusting the pieces from his hands, Lucifer observed Dean with a sympathetic look. "It really kills you to see your brother like this, doesn't it?" He tilted his head, inspecting Dean's reaction to his words closely. "Reduced to nothing more than a costume. Watching me take control, and knowing that there isn't anything you can do about it." He took a step to move towards Dean, and paused when he saw Dean's jaw tighten furiously. "But you're wrong Dean. You're so wrong. There is _something_ you can do. You can save your brother - you can keep Sammy safe."

"What are you talking about?" Dean snapped. He glanced over at Castiel who lay slumped against the wall. His eyes were closed.

"I had to ask before I entered his body. I'm an angel after all, and he had to invite me in. It wasn't easy – Sam wouldn't budge despite my constant pleas." He smiled victoriously when Dean struggled against his restraints again. "He was defiant your brother… strong… confident… until I mentioned your son." Dean raised his face to glare at the Devil in front of him. Undiluted hate seeped from the elder Winchesters' eyes. "I offered Sam a deal, Dean. If he leant me his body, I wouldn't kill your son."

Dean gaped up at Lucifer. Slowly the information started to seep in, and he didn't know whether he wanted to curse or throw up. _'No. Please God, no. Please tell me he's lying. Tell me Sam didn't make the deal. Didn't Sam learn anything about making deals?"_

"And just so you know - it's a deal I still intend to honour," Lucifer assured him, a smile that looked too twisted to be Sam, pulled at his lean features. "I'm not going to kill your son, Dean. I _need_ him. I need him alive so that he can help me."

"Why?"

"You haven't figured it out yet? Sam is strong, yes, but there's just something missing. That little something extra that he just doesn't have." Lucifer's shoulder sagged, and Dean was confused by the action. He almost appeared… regretful. "You see your son, he carries something only an Angel possess. Something that I used to have, but it was stolen from me when my father cast me aside and allowed my brothers' to determine my fate. Something that you could call a key of sorts."

"A key?" Dean responded, baffled. He snuck a glance over at Castiel, and tried not to show his despair when the Angel was nowhere to be seen.

"Yes – a key to Heaven," Lucifer continued to explain, oblivious to the missing Angel. Dean tried not to draw attention to the fact that he was slowly scanning the room for Castiel. "It's the only way I can enter Heaven. Without it, I'm stuck on earth." Dean forced himself to look Lucifer in the eye as he towered over him. "I want to go home Dean, but I need your son to do it."

Dean's forehead creased with confusion. His heart skipped a beat in anticipation. "I don't-?"

"Your son has my grace, Dean."

***

"How can you still be hungry?" Jo murmured in amazement as her son continued to suck at her breast franticly. She shifted her position slightly, uncomfortable from being stuck in a sitting position for so long. She desperately wanted to stretch her legs, or even do something as simple as go to the bathroom, but the minute she handed her son over to Bobby or her mom, Anthony started to howl. So she continued to nurse her hungry son, and ignored the constant pressing against her bladder.

"The child is still growing rapidly," Melakim noted stoically from across the room. The female Angel had not moved an inch from her position by the basement door since Castiel had departed. "He requires constant sustenance."

"How quickly are we talking?" Ellen interrogated, still maintaining her defensive positive between Jo and the female Angel. "Days? Weeks?"

Jo didn't blame her mom for sounding so irritated. Unlike Castiel, Melakim oozed displeasure at being stationed in a basement with them. The hunters had quickly given up small talk when the Angel refused to answer their questions. Jo secretly despised Melakim for the way she kept staring at her son with sharp, critical eyes. She prayed that Dean would return quickly.

"Years."

"Years?" Jo repeated anxiously. She glanced down at the baby in her arms, and realised that it hadn't been her imagination – he really was starting to look longer and thinner. Fear gripped her limbs, and Jo was startled when Anthony opened his eyes and stared up at her intently.

"By the end of one earth day he will be equivalent of a one year old," The Angel replied, her eyes narrowing on the ceiling. "The storm is increasing in potency. I suggest everyone remain inside the basement until the storm ceases it's activity."

Frowning, Ellen moved towards the door of the bunker and hollered up the stairs. "Bobby!"

Footsteps thudded above their heads. "What?"

"Get down here!" Ellen shouted, glancing over at the Angel for confirmation. Melakim nodded. "The storm is picking up."

"I noticed," Bobby grumbled, stomping down the stairs. He juggled an armload of books, and dumped them on the table by the door. There were already several towers of books.

"What is all this?" Ellen questioned, glancing at the books sceptically. "Are you planning on making a fort with 'em?"

Bobby rolled his eyes, and pulled out one of the books from the stack. Jo instantly recognised the book. It was the same book containing a series of Angel paintings and prophecies that she had read before Raziel had captured her and tested her faith. "Bobby, can I have the book?" Jo asked, careful not to jostle Anthony's head as she extended one hand. "Please?"

"Yeah, in a sec, I just want to show you something I found while I was upstairs." He opened the book to a marked page, and held it up for her to see. It was the very same picture Jo had seen of a mother and her child in Heaven surrounded by Angels flocking to earth.

Jo swallowed thickly. "I've seen it," she admitted quietly and her gaze dropped down guiltily to her son. His green eyes stared up at her curiously, his tiny hand reaching up to catch the edge of her shirt. Jo was startled by the look in his young face. If she didn't know any better she might think that he looked sympathetic.

"You know it's the strangest thing," Bobby remarked, tapping the image of the mother in the picture. "But she looks awfully familiar, dontcha think?"

"It is Joanna." Melakim confirmed, her expression blank. "It is a small rough representation of the prophets vision."

"Care to enlighten us on this vision?"

"I do not." Melakim responded bluntly, ignoring Bobby's infuriated look. She turned her head stiffly toward Jo, and imprinted her with a pointed look. "Though perhaps Joanna with enlighten you."

"What's going on?" Ellen demanded, glancing from Bobby to Jo. "Will someone please catch me up here? Why are you all staring at Jo?"

"Because," Bobby answered, shutting the book with a loud thud. He crossed his arms over his chest, and levelled Jo with a disapproving stare. "It seems like your daughter has one hell of a poker face."

***

"What?" Dean spluttered, gazing at Lucifer incredulously. His heart hammered away violently in his chest when Lucifer nodded his head with confirmation.

"My Grace," he responded calmly. He pointed to the ceiling. "According to the prophecy, my brothers thought there would be no safer place to contain it than an innocent human child."

"You've got to be kidding me," Dean grumbled, trying to swallow back the urge to start hitting anything and everything. He knew he needed to stay calm, he needed to keep it together long enough to figure out how to escape. He glanced at the spot he had last seen Castiel, and tried to ignore the feeling of betrayal. _'Cas is just working on a back up plan – he's probably gone to get the Calvary. I just have to stall until he gets here.'_

"I'm afraid not, Dean. I understand this must be hard-"

"No." Dean continued to shake his head with denial. "I don't believe you. You're just trying to fuck with me. Just like that black eyed bitch Ruby."

A cold look crossed Lucifer's features, and Dean was surprised by the intensity in his eyes. Hurt and betrayal leaked from the tall man's body. "After all you've seen, is it really so hard to conceive that your son is carrying my grace? I'm sure you're now more than aware of how my brothers and sisters like to twist things to their advantage. Ask your friend Castiel if you want confirmation." Not giving Dean the chance to respond, Lucifer turned to where he had left Castiel slumped against a wall. His eyes narrowed suspiciously when all that greeted him was a bloody stain on the wall. Scowling, he twisted his neck to look at Dean. "Where is he?"

Dean shrugged, his body tensing in preparation for Lucifers wrath. He hoped that Zachariah hadn't been exaggerating when he had said Lucifer was not yet at full strength. Dean was pretty sure that hanging up side down earlier was going to be a walk in the park compared to what the devil had planned for him. "How should I know?"

"If this is some kind of a time wasting ploy to-" Lucifer raged, storming towards Dean.

A short blonde woman dressed in a black trench coat suddenly materialised in front of Dean. Lucifer came to an abrupt halt. Dean spotted recognition on Lucifer's face and wondered if the woman knew who she was facing.

"Cadmiel," Lucifer greeted warmly, his earlier fury fading from his face completely. He squared his shoulders, a look of respect shadowing his face. "It's been a very long time."

"Hello, brother," The woman answered curtly, ducking her head slightly.

"Not that I'm not pleased to see you, but what are you doing here?" Lucifer questioned, analysing the woman in front of him. When she did not immediately respond his expression hardened. "Who sent you?"

The woman lowered her head with regret, and took a hesitant step towards Lucifer. "Our Father sent for me," she admitted, slowly raising her head. "He told me how I may achieve redemption."

"Redemption?" Lucifer commented with a snort. "You mean to tell me he admitted that your vision was right all along – that you will die by my hand?" He shook his head sympathetically. "Cadmiel, I thought you understood our agreement. If you joined my side, I promised never to raise a hand towards you. I am not like our Father – I do not go back on my word."

Cadmiel reached out and placed a small hand on Lucifer's chest. His eyes narrowed, his lips twisted with confusion. "I was blinded by fear, my brother. I did not understand. How could I when I had never met our Father? But he spoke to me. And now I know… now I have faith." She took his hand and placed it against her heart. Dean's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. "I do this in love, brother - not fear."

Lucifer baulked and wrenched his hand from her chest. Dean was surprised by how panicked the persecuted Angel looked. He glanced around the room again for a sign of Castiel before returning his gaze to the Angels in front of him.

"How can you of all people do this, Cadmiel?" Lucifer cried, pacing back and forth in front of her. "After everything you've seen – everything you've done? How can you lay down your life for a child you've never met? How can He ask this of you?"

"Lucifer," Cadmiel urged gently. She reached out and placed a firm grasp on his bicep and stopped him from pacing. Once he had ceased moving, she grazed the side of his cheek her palm. He leaned into her hand, his eyes closed. "I give you permission. I invite you in."

"No, don't-" Lucifer shook his head. He opened his eyes and whispered his dissent. "It's not supposed to be like this. It's supposed to be the child." He pulled away from her. "How can you choose Him over me? How can you believe Him when I have promised you the world, and He has promised you only death?"

"Luc-"

"No!" He howled and pushed her away roughly. He pointed at Dean accusingly. "Don't you see? It's happening all over again. He doesn't love you – He loves _them_. It's always them! And it's worse than before because hardly any of them believe in Him. Only a small amount of humans truly worship Him. I gave Him everything – I was the most devout of all, and look where it got me. Wasn't I enough of an example for you?" His eyes burned with hurt as he stared at her beseechingly.

Sighing, Cadmiel shook her head. "You just don't get it do you, brother? It's not about you – It was never about you."

"No," Lucifer snapped, and before Dean could call out a warning, Lucifer took her by the neck. "It's you who doesn't get it." He brusquely pulled her to his mouth and slammed his lips against her. Her terrified eyes started to glow with a pure white light. Lucifers own eyes started to glow, but his body began to tremble, and Dean knew Lucifer was slowly draining the life from his brother as he forced his way into Cadmiel's vessel. Dean scrambled to his feet, desperate to stop them, when he was grabbed sharply from behind.

"Shield your eyes," Castiel hissed into his ear.

Dean barely had a chance to raise his arm to his eyes when a powerful white light exploded from Cadmiel's eyes. Her screams pierced his ears, freezing the blood in his veins. He felt Castiel's arms around him as a mighty wind shoved them harshly to the ground.

A keen ringing sound filled the room and Dean grunted in pain. He felt Castiel's grip increase around him, acting as a sort of anchor as the gusts picked up. Cadmiel's screams suddenly evaporated and a deep voice boomed overhead. "I dare you to try and stop me now, Castiel."

A massive explosion above their heads caused the ground beneath them to quake. Dean opened his eyes and cried out when Castiel dragged him roughly to his feet. "Move!" The Angel bellowed, and Dean clumsily staggered to the left seconds before the ceiling collapsed around them. The sanctuary began to shake violently.

"Dean!"

Whirling around, Dean spotted his brother sluggishly attempting to stand. "Grab him!" Castiel commanded, holding both hands up to stop the remaining pieces of concrete from crumbling on top of Sam. Dean ducked under his brothers' armpit and dragged a limping Sam into the hallway. "Go! The whole place is coming down!"

The walls continued to buckle around them, nearly blocking their escape until Castiel appeared by their side and touched their foreheads. A second later Sam collapsed onto the wet grass outside the sanctuary, dragging Dean down with him. "Sam?" Dean gasped, trying to pull his brother back to his feet. "Sammy, are you ok?"

"Dean?" Sam whimpered pieces of cement and wood tumbling from his hair. His bewildered eyes darted from Dean to Castiel. "Dean I'm sorry, I thought I was protecting us. I didn't know that Lilith-"

"It's okay, Sammy. It's ok."

"It's not," Sam insisted, tugging at his brothers' arm. "Lucifer is going to storm Heaven. He's going to win, Dean. He's going to win, and it's all my fault. I ended the world."

"We need to get the two of you out of here," Castiel announced gruffly. Dean noted that Castiel refused to look Sam in the eye.

"Wait!" Sam held up his hand to stop the Angel from pressing his fingers to their foreheads again. The Angel paused, looking at Dean for an explanation. "Dean, you need to know –"

"Know what, Sam?" Dean asked, shrugging at Castiel. "Can't we discuss this back at the house?"

"Castiel, can we have a second?" Sam turned to the Angel hopefully. "In private."

"I believe that is not wise." Castiel snapped brusquely. He glanced up at the sky cluttered with heavy storm clouds. Lightning slithered across the horizon and Dean thought for a moment that the lightning streak was actually red. "We are running thin on time-"

"I know, I know," Sam remarked, giving Dean a persistent glance. "I just… it wont take a second."

"Sam-"

"Dean, Please!" Sam shouted. "I _need_ to talk to you."

Looking like he was about to strike Sam, Castiel stiffened, and he glared at Dean. Dean scratched the back of his head absently as he considered Sam's request - he had never seen his brother so desperate. "Cas, can you just give us a-"

"Fine," Castiel remarked gruffly and marched off towards the now destroyed sanctuary.

"What's your problem, Sam?" Dean hissed, pulling his brother to his feet. Sam swayed for a few seconds, but he determinedly stayed upright. "If this is-"

"The Angels have asked Jo to give up the baby."

"Huh?" Dean gasped, his green eyes widening in disbelief. "Say again?"

Sam glanced over at the sanctuary, before leaning towards his brother. "When Lucifer was talking to Castiel, I heard his thoughts. The Angels need the baby to fight Lucifer… in Heaven. Dean, they need either you or Jo to give them permission to take him to Heaven."

"So?" Dean remarked. Sam gave him a pointed look. "Wait." Eyebrows narrowing, Dean clenched his fists. "Heaven? But don't you have to be… Do you mean to tell me they want our permission to kill our son?"

Sam nodded, his hand resting gently on Dean's shoulder. His voice was full of sympathy. "But they know you would _never_ agree to it."

"So they are pressuring Jo?" Dean exploded, tossing his brothers hand off him. "Those back stabbing sons of bitches," he muttered while pacing back and forth.

"Dean," Sam interrupted. He glanced around for Castiel, and lowered his voice. "What if she's already said yes?"

"No," Dean shook his head fiercely. "No - she wouldn't do that. I know she wouldn't."

"How?" Sam persisted, looking nervous. Castiel was starting to stride towards them, a no-nonsense look plastered across his face. Sam lowered his voice to a whisper. "Dean, I know you love her-"

Spluttering, Dean shook his head in protest. "I – I… love is a very strong word, Sammy-" He stopped when he saw the knowing look on his brothers face. "Ok fine. I love her – you happy now, Oprah?" He frowned, and turned around so that his back was to Castiel. "She wouldn't just give up after everything we've been through," he hissed at Sam. "She wouldn't."

"I have given you a minute," Castiel announced upon reaching them. "We need to return immediately." Without giving Dean or Sam a chance to refuse him, he placed a hand on each man's forehead and blinked them back to Bobby's house.

* * *

Was it worth the wait? Would love to hear all your thoughts, and theories.... oh, and who hasn't squealed about episode 5x10 yet? :D


	21. Chapter 21

**Rating: M**

**A/N: **Oh, Hello... remember me? First off a big HAPPY HOLIDAYS to everyone! No matter where you are, who you're with or what you celebrate I hope you have a fun, safe and happy day tomorrow!Secondly I would like to apologize to all of you for waiting so long to read this latest chapter. I have to admit I have many excuses about why it wasn't up earlier, but lets just settle with the fact that I wasn't going to post it until I was completely 100% happy with it.. even if it's six drafts later!

Thank you to everyone who has offered support, advice and reviews for this story. I have tried to reply to you all, and for those who didn't have a reply address - please know that I appreciate you taking the time to let me know your thoughts. They are all loved and adored. Thanks again everyone, and I'll try to have the next chapter up soon. Enjoy!

* * *

'**Hallelujah' **

She was too late.

Anna rushed down the unnaturally silent corridors of the ancient monastery with a heavy heart. Evidence of great violence stained her vision as she rounded the corner that led to the main communion room. She stopped short, gasping with horror. A dozen monks lay twisted, and bleeding before her like some grotesque red carpet.

They were all dead.

All of them. Tears invaded her eyes, making it difficult to navigate her way towards the large oak doors without stepping on any of the fallen. Anna held a hand to her nose, the stench of sulphur a clear indication of who had been responsible for the slaughter.

'_Please God, have mercy on the souls that were lost here today'_, she prayed, glancing around helplessly. There was nothing she could do for them. Resuming her original mission, Anna reached out to grasp the gold door handle, her heart clenching when she realised the streaks on the door were desperate bloody handprints. Rage flared inside her at the injustice of it all, and she threw her weight against the heavy door.

It was dark inside the communion room. A single white candle spluttered pathetically on its side by her feet. Anna stepped over the thick salt line, and made her way to the middle of the room. With a wave of her hand the hundred candles encircling the small room were relit.

"Michael!"

Anna flocked to the solitary masculine figure curled up on his side. She knew before she reached him that he was already dead. A gaping hole in the back of his neck explained how such an improbable thing could happen to the strongest Archangel of them all. "No. No. No. No," she sobbed with despair, her fingers fluttering over his cold vessel uselessly. "Not you. Not this way."

"Its true, sweet cheeks. The Archangel Michael has been defeated. The earth is doomed."

Raising her tear stained face, Anna stared malevolently at the Archangel slinking out of the shadows. "Raziel," she greeted coldly. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here for the same reason you are." His gaze flittered over Michael's still form, and for a split second Anna detected grief and anguish in the normally conceited Angel's green eyes. She started to wonder if she had been wrong about Raziel all these years – perhaps his arrogant behaviour was a mask for a kind sensitive soul. Raziel blinked, and he turned away from her, his swagger stiff and awkward. He approached the small window to her right, a wash of colours staining his face as he observed the sunrise before him. "I came to stop Michael from going up against our little brother," he started to explain. "But as you can see I was too late." He turned to face her and she was struck by the burning hatred seeping from his youthful features. "Now there's only one thing left to do."

Confused, Anna's gaze dropped towards Michael's vessel. She could not register how such a powerful being could have been slain so easily. She prayed for understanding, but felt the depressing absence of their long silent father. How she wished she possessed the ability to turn back time and stop all this from ever happening. "What are we going to do?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" Anna repeated staring at the Archangel with her mouth agape.

"That's right – nothing." Raziel responded, a cold, deadpanned look replacing the fury. He straightened his shoulders, and turned back to the sunrise. "I'm going to sit back and watch the world burn."

***

"Well?"

All eyes focused on the guilty looking blonde. Jo swallowed. Her eyes darted towards Melakim, but the Angel only stared back at her indifferently. She couldn't believe the Angel had the nerve to try and start trouble by throwing doubts amongst the already paranoid hunters. "I-I…"

"What aren't you telling us?" Bobby pressed, tapping the spine of the book. His voice was rough, and his eyes bore the evidence of someone who was fatigued, and close to snapping. "I found this hidden amongst your things in the bedroom upstairs when I was looking for more Angel wards."

Jo felt the intrusive heat from her mom's suspicious gaze on her face – she didn't dare look at the elder Harvelle. "I wasn't hiding anything," Jo fibbed lamely, bouncing the baby gently in her arms. It figured that the one time she could have used the distraction of crying he was strangely calm and content.

"Joanna Beth, what's going on?" Ellen demanded, sharing a concerned glance with Bobby. "Is it something to do with the baby?"

'_Lie'_, her mind chimed. _'If I tell them that the book prophesies that I will give up Anthony so he can defeat Lucifer - they will freak. They don't need to know. It's not going to happen. The prophecy is wrong. Dean has probably already stopped Sam in time, and I'll tell Dean the truth when everything has settle down.' _Jo cleared her throat, deliberately focusing on the spot on Bobby's nose rather than his eyes."It's nothing. It's just-"

"SILENCE!" Melakim bellowed, holding her hand up at them imperiously. Head tilted slightly to the left, she closed her eyes, and appeared to be listening to something in the distance. Jo exchanged a worried glance with her mom, and resisted the urge to retreat towards the other side of the room.

'_Something big must be happening in Heaven,'_ Jo mused watching the Angel for an indication as to what she was hearing. The room fell silent – the only source of noise coming from the rain pummelling the earth outside.

Melakim's eyes snapped open. "Lucifer," she breathed, her tone infused with despair.

"Lucifer?!?" Bobby croaked, his eyes already scanning the room for an intruder. "Here?" He moved in front of Jo protectively. Ellen followed suit, pausing only to pick up her shotgun from the floor.

Melakim shook her head, confusion creasing her pale features. "No, not here… somewhere...he's free… but he's moving too fast. I can't be certain where he is going."

"Well get certain!" Bobby snarled, waving at Jo to get back. Jo's heart hammered wildly in her chest. She glanced down at Anthony, and was surprised by the pensive expression adorning her son's face. In just a few short minutes he had shed his soft pudgy newborn features, and was starting to take on lean familiar characteristics.

"You don't suppose something happened to Dean-" Ellen started to whisper to Bobby, but abruptly cut herself off after seeing the devastated look on Jo's face. The elder Harvelle grimaced and turned back around to face the Angel.

"I need you to remain quiet!" Melakim growled, pressing her fingers to her temple. Brows furrowed, she appeared to be whispering something under her breath that Jo could not make out.

"Mel-"

"Michael," the Angel moaned. A small whistle like sound escape her lips, and she slumped to her knees. Bobby glanced at Ellen, and they shared a bewildered look before turning back to the Angel. Tears streamed down Melakim's face.

"What's wrong?" Jo asked tentatively, pulling Anthony closer to her chest. She didn't know if she should be alarmed or relieved that his eyes had closed, and that he now lay very still. Before the Angel could open her mouth to answer, Jo was overcome by an unusual dizzy spell. She swayed slightly, struggling to maintain her grip on Anthony. The sensation barely lasted seconds, but when she opened her eyes she knew what had happened instantly.

She'd been transported.

Jo glowered at the all to familiar surroundings. A simple white cot now replaced the long white marble table that had once held a full banquet. Fear pierced her heart, and she clutched Anthony to her chest tightly. "It's okay sweetie, I won't let them take you."

The grand doors opened beside her. Jo quickly turned around to greet the concerned eyes of a young, red headed woman. Unlike the other Angels Jo had met of late, this one looked eerily human in her low rider jeans, and her white blouse. Upon sighting Jo's defensive stance, the young woman raised her hands in a sign of surrender. "Please, I promise I'm not a threat to either one of you." She took a small, cautious step towards Jo. "My name is Anna."

Ignoring the Angel's attempt at pleasantries, Jo glowered at the petite woman. "This wont work you know. You can't keep beaming me up here to guilt trip me into giving Anthony up."

Anna tilted her head confused until a look of comprehension crossed her small pale face. "You think I'm the one who brought you here?"

"Well if you didn't do it - who did?"

"Why don't you ask him?" Anna's eyes fell on the large bundle in her arms. Instinctively Jo's grip tightened around her son. She served the Angel with a menacing glare. "He's very intuitive," Anna remarked, a fond smile brightening her face. "He sensed danger and sought a safe place for you both."

"He's just a baby," Jo protested heatedly, backing away from the red head.

"Not for long," Anna confessed. "As soon as you relinquish him he will join the ranks of the Archangels, and take his place as Michael's predecessor."

***

"Anyone home?!?" Dean called out, helping his brother limp towards the kitchen table. Sam instantly sunk down onto a chair gratefully, and began to roll up his pant leg to inspect the damage. A sharp piece of stained glass protruded from the left side of his calf muscle.

"Something is not right," Castiel warned them, his eyes alert. "Melakim!" He barked, and no sooner had her name left his lips, the sullen Angel appeared beside him. "Where is-"

"Michael is dead!" The Angel announced hysterically, her eyes full of tears. "He's dead, Castiel. Lucifer killed him!"

Dean watched Castiel's face twist with disbelief before descending into outrage. He was about to respond to the news himself, when Castiel suddenly took the female Angel by the arm roughly, and shook her. "Where is the child?"

"DEAN!" Dean tore his astonished gaze away from Castiel when he heard the panic in Ellen's voice. Footsteps pounded up the basements steps, the door bursting open to reveal the alarmed duo. "They're gone. They disappeared."

"What?!?"

Bobby rushed to explain. "A second before you arrived Jo and Anthony disappeared. They just vanished without warning."

"Cas?" Dean gasped, turning to the Angel for answers. He felt a tightening in his chest. Dread slithered through his veins while he awaited an explanation from either Angel. "What's Bobby talking about? Where did they go?"

"Melakim?" Castiel snapped, his grip increasing on the Angels arms. "What happened to them? Where is Lahariel?"

"He fled when he heard the news about Lucifer," Melakim answered sourly. She attempted to shake off Castiel's grip but was unsuccessful. She glared up at him defiantly. "How could you let this happen, Castiel?" she accused scathingly. "How could you let those useless apes unleash hell onto this world?"

"Useless?" Sam defended hotly, struggling to stand up from the chair. "This was your mess to begin with! If you had of told us what was going on from the start instead of playing games, we wouldn't be here right now."

"Sam-"

"How dare you speak to me with such insolence!" Melakim snarled, shoving against Castiel furiously. "You are nothing but a stupid hairless ape. Filth. My brother, the most powerful and beautiful being in the whole universe, was slaughtered protecting you ungrateful animals! They should have let you burn in that nursery fire! You brought this upon us–"

"ENOUGH!" Castiel boomed. The walls around them trembled in response to his fury. He pushed the Angel backwards forcefully, missing Ellen by mere millimetres as Melakim crashed into the wall. A small hairline crack ran up the wall above her head.

Melakim snarled, her face warped with indignation, and she struggled to push herself upright. "Are you really going to defend these… these _animals_ over your own family?"

Dean had never seen Castiel so angry. The Angel rose to his full height, a flicker of lightning allowing them all to catch a shadowy glimpse of the black wings spanning out from behind him menacingly. Dean felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end much like they had the first time Castiel had revealed his wings in the old barn.

Castiel towered over the smaller Angel for several tense minutes until Dean suspected the two Angels were conversing with each other internally. He glanced over at Sam to share a look of concern, and shrugged when his brother raised an eyebrow in question.

"Enough!" Abruptly Castiel moved his head away from Melakim, and turned his back on the fuming Angel. "Leave, Melakim," he ordered coldly, glancing over his shoulder briefly. "Your services are no longer required."

Melakim's eyes widened incensed. "My _services_?!?" she screeched, the sound piercing Dean's eardrums painfully. "Zachariah was right about you, you're nothing more than-"

The Angel's rant was abruptly cut off when she vanished into thin air. Confused, Dean turned his head towards Castiel. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted an attractive red head standing by the kitchen door. Her hand was pressed against a bloodied mess of symbols scrawled on the wall. Dean instantly recognised the symbols as the same ones Castiel had drawn on the roof of his car.

"A little time out might do her some good." The red head stepped away from the wall, dragging her bloodied hands up and down her jean-clad thighs.

"Who the hell are you?" Dean questioned gruffly. He had, had enough of Heaven's cheer squad coming and going as they pleased, and interfering with their lives.

"Anna," Castiel whispered in greeting, ignoring Dean's question completely. Surprised by the sound of the raw emotion in the Angels' voice, Dean took note of the way Castiel appeared to soften at the sight of the new comer. "It's true. You're alive."

The redhead nodded, tilting her head to the side, and serving Castiel with a exultant smile. "I am." She moved towards Castiel, and placed a hand on his bicep. "Thanks to you."

Dean smirked in reaction to Castiel ducking his head in what he assumed was embarrassment. He glanced over to see if his brother had noticed the obvious chemistry between the two Angels, but Sam was too busy examining the symbols on the kitchen wall.

"I did nothing. Your wounds were significant… how did you-"

"It was Michael," Anna interrupted sadly, and let her hand fall from his arm. "He healed me, and sent me back to Heaven to gather the others to rescue Sam. But by the time I had arrived there was news that Lucifer had risen."

Sam turned around upon hearing his name, and Dean noted that he bristled at the mention of Lucifer. He tried to catch his brother's eye, but the taller Winchester was staring at Anna. "You were coming for me?" Sam asked sounding surprised.

Anna nodded, though her eyes never quite raised enough to meet his gaze. "Yes. We knew that Lucifer was after his grace, and we knew he'd stop at _nothing_ to procure it." She turned back to Castiel. "No one predicted that Cadmiel would relinquish her grace to save the child, so you cannot blame yourself, Castiel." Castiel shook his head in refusal to her words, but she stilled his motions by placing a tender hand to his cheek. "Castiel, you did the best you could. Melakim was just lashing out – Michael believed in your cause."

Dean cleared his throat impatiently. "Listen, I hate to interrupt whatever _this_ is, and I'm sure it's all really important, but right now all I care about is where the hell Jo and Anthony are? Shouldn't our priority be locating them if Lucifers stomping around looking for his grace?"

"They're safe for now," Anna retorted, facing Dean. "Anthony sensed Lucifer's presence, and sought protection."

Dean baulked at the Angel's explanation. "Say again?"

"He was frightened and transported himself and Jo to Heaven."

"They're dead?!?!" Dean exclaimed, his legs threatening to buckle. It was suddenly very hard to breathe, and Dean could hear the blood pounding in his ears. _'How can they be dead? No! They can't. I knew I never should have left. I should have stayed and protected them. I failed Jo. I couldn't protect my brother, and I couldn't protect my own son-'_

Anna frowned. "No. They're fine." She quickly glanced at Castiel expectantly. "Don't they know?"

Castiel grimaced, before sheepishly explaining. "There are certain parts of Heaven that one can enter without having to be deceased. There are numerous… waiting rooms… places where Angels like myself can come and go freely without having to dispose of our vessels." He attention returned to Anna once more. "But that does not make these places safe – not anymore. Not with Lucifer trying to find his way back into Heaven."

Anna nodded in agreement. "He hasn't attempted to force his way in yet, and there's talk amongst the Garrison that he is gathering his armies for a siege… but I personally think he's stalling." The Angel turned to Dean with sympathetic eyes. "He's determined to have your son."

"But I thought it was just the grace thing he wanted?" Dean countered. "Now that he has one why does Anthony matter to him?"

"Because grace or not he is still destined to be the one to slay Lucifer in the end." Castiel clarified with a quick glance at Anna. She nodded with confirmation. "And you could say that by capturing Anthony he is _hedging his bets_."

***

"Sshhh, baby, come on. It's ok." Jo crooned, pacing the room while gently patting Anthony's back. His tired cries continued to echo inside the room, and Jo was at a loss as to how to calm him down. She glanced nervously around the room, tired from being on a constant state of high alert for the last couple of hours. "Oh, I wish I knew what to do for you," Jo admitted sorrowfully, peeling his red face away from her shoulder. Tiny tears spilled from his eyes, and the sight caused her heart to tighten in her chest. Kissing his head softly she continued to rub his back in small soothing circles. "Shhh, sweetie. Shhhh. It's alright, I'm here. I'll keep you safe."

"Dad-d." Jo gasped, and pulled back slightly from Anthony. His fist in his mouth, he continued to cry but there was no denying the words that tumbled from his mouth next, "Dad-d Dad-d."

"Did you just say Dad?" She asked bewildered, and kissed his forehead. "You did!" Bouncing him up and down, she ran an affectionate hand through his silk like blonde hair. "So you can speak now, huh?"

"Clever little thing isn't he?"

Jo whirled around at the sound of a deep female voice behind her. She gasped at the sight of a pale blonde with a disfigured face staring at her. Anthony immediately started to scream louder, and fidgeted in her arms. Jo struggled to maintain a hold of her son, and staggered backwards. "Who are you?"

"I have many names."

"Well how about you just start with one?" Jo snapped, her stomach churning as the blonde continued to stare at her with a ravenous look. Her instincts screamed at her to run, but she didn't see how that would help, and settled for placing the crib between her and the stranger. "Pick you're favourite."

The blonde smiled, and when she did so Jo couldn't help but gasp in horror. The woman's skin appeared strained and almost translucent. The strain of skin and muscle caused a tear in the skin around her lips and blood oozed from the wounds, staining the lapels of her trench coat. "Don't be alarmed," the woman remarked in response to Jo's revulsion. "I'm just running a little thin these days."

"Who… what are you?" Jo asked over the screaming in her ear. Anthony's fingers dug into her shoulder painfully, and she suspected if he could he would have crawled back insider her stomach. She wondered oddly why Anthony was unable to beam them somewhere safer like he had earlier.

The blonde continued to approach them until she was stopped by the presence of the crib. Jo jumped when, without warning, the crib buckled under an invisible force and shattered. Bits of wood and blue material flew sideways and the blonde stepped over the mess casually. Jo wrapped her arms tightly around Anthony's body and pressed an assuring kiss to his head. "How did you get in here?"

"You could say I used the house keys," the woman responded with amusement in her blood shot eyes. "But I would have preferred the master key."

"Oh my God." The disfigured blonde glared, pieces of skin flaking off her face as her forehead creased. Jo barely heard the growl emanating from the woman over Anthony's hysterical screaming. "Lucifer," she whispered. "You escaped."

"Joanna Beth Harvelle." He held out her hand politely, the scarred face of his vessel expectant. "Nice to finally meet you. I've been anticipating meeting you for a very long time." When Jo made no move to shake his hand he shrugged.

"I wont let you take Anthony."

Lucifer tilted his head to the side curiously. "Anthony? Hmmm. I like what you have named my vessel." He took a confident step towards her, and she retreated backwards towards the wall. "Don't be scared little one," he remarked kindly bending down until he was eye level with Anthony. Jo was surprised when Anthony fell silent and turned his head to face Lucifer. "I am nothing to be afraid of. You and I are made for each other."

"Stay away from us!" Jo warned petrified, her heart beating painfully. Her grip increased on Anthony. _'Somebody help us!'_ she prayed desperately. _'Please God, help me protect Anthony. Lucifer can kill me but please don't let him touch my baby.'_

"I do not understand your fear." Lucifer paused his movements, and straightened awkwardly. If Jo didn't know any better she'd say he looked… _offended._ "I have simply come for what is rightfully mine."

"He is not _yours_ to take_,_" Jo insisted, shielding Anthony's face with her hand. "He is my son. My flesh and blood."

"And my Grace is tangled with his soul. By your measurements that makes him my son as well."

"I wont let you take him."

Lucifer smiled, and for a second the body he was wearing shuddered violently. Jo felt the urge to vomit when she heard a popping sound. Lucifer continued to roll his shoulders back and forth, unconcerned by the fact that his collarbone now protruded at an odd angle. Catching Jo's bewildered expression Lucifer chuckled. "Do not let the vulnerabilities of this… _suit_ give you false hope for your salvation. I will simply find another vessel to posses, and I will keep on doing so until you hand over my true vessel." Lucifer paused, a glint of an evil smile staining his face. "I think for my next suit I'll start with a feisty brunette that would do anything to protect her one and only daughter."

"Stay away from my mom!"

Lucifer cackled gleefully before responding to her threat. "And just how do you plan on stopping me?" Before Jo could formulate a reply he was quick to answer for her. "You can't. You and I both know that you'll never hand Anthony over to Heaven - so why bother wasting my time by threatening me?"

"I'd give him to the Angels before I'd ever give him to you," Jo assured him with a glare. "You can trap us here for eternity but I'll never give in to you."

"Who said I'm the one keeping you here?" Lucifer asked, and reached out to touch Anthony. Jo was quick to wack Lucifer's encroaching hand away, and received a slight electrical jolt upon contact with his skin. Lucifer appeared pleased by the reaction. He grinned manically. "Ohh that tickles." Lucifer again reached out for Anthony, but Jo repeated her earlier motion, and batted his hand away. "Let me have the child."

"No."

He reached forward again, only this time he took hold of her wrist when she reached out to slap it. Jo felt what she imagined to be the equivalent to being struck by lightning. Her body shook helplessly; pain lacerating her heart. She couldn't feel her legs, but she could see them wobble, and eventually her knees bent under the force.

Arms quaking with pain, Jo struggled stop herself from dropping Anthony while slowly lowering to the ground. Her mouth opened to scream, but no sound came forth. Her vision blurred.

"S-Stop!"

Lucifer instantly released Jo's hand; the sudden absence of pain leaving her stunned and vulnerable. She readjusted her grip on Anthony, his tiny fingers clutching her hair. The tears had evaporated from his face, and he pouted angrily at Lucifer.

"Give me my vessel," Lucifer demanded, raising his palm as if to strike her.

Jo squared her shoulders in defiance. Her hands were shaking. "Never."

"Give him to me, or I can promise that you will die a very slow, and painful death."

"No."

"GIVE ME THE CHILD!"

"No!"

"Fine!" Lucifer snarled, and thrust out both hands in front of him. Jo felt the impact before his fingers so much as skimmed her chest. She barely had a chance to curl herself protectively around Anthony, when the sound of thunder rippled above their heads. The pain dissolved, and Jo realised with horror that Anthony's tiny hands gripped the side of Lucifers palm. "It's for the best little one," Lucifer addressed Anthony. "Once I'm rid of her we can be together. I can give you the whole world."

Anthony closed his eyes, and for a split second Jo was petrified that Lucifer had hurt him. She made to pull her son away from Lucifer when the fallen Angel suddenly hurtled across the room, and smashed into the wall. Gasping, Jo realised what Anthony had done.

The questions and the fears screaming inside of her head fell silent. While Lucifer struggled to remain upright she quickly took hold of her son and raised his body until they were at eyelevel. "I'm sorry baby, but this is the only way to keep you safe."

Anthony raised the balled fist he had been sucking and placed his tiny fingers against her cheek. The level of wisdom shinning through from the depth of his eyes took her aback. Lips trembling, she kissed his forehead lovingly. "No matter what sweetheart, you must remember I love you more than anything." She stroked the side of his face with her shaking fingers. "If there was any other way..."

"M-Mom."

A tear escaped the confines of her lashes and dribbled down her chin. "That's right." Jo nodded, sniffing back the tears. "Mommy loves you." She glanced over hastily at Lucifer, and saw that his left arm was broken. Blood oozed for his vessel's chest. She swallowed nervously, and turned to face Lucifer.

"I, Joanna Beth Harvelle-"

"No!" Lucifer shouted alarmed, and made a dash for them. "Don't you dare!"

"…Give my son, body and soul, wholly and completely over to Heaven."

"NO!!" Lucifer lunged towards her, his fingers latching around her neck. There was a burst of pure white light. Jo barely had a chance to gasp as Anthony was torn from her arms.

The light intensified.

Blinded and deaf, Jo opened her mouth to cry out as the air inside her lungs began to burn. Pain slashed through her stomach, and she doubled over. The last thing she heard before she succumbed to unconsciousness was a strong male voice that whispered _Thank You_ into her ear.

Then… there was nothing.

***

"Something's wrong," Anna announced quietly, opening her eyes. Dean was far beyond caring. He'd spent the last ten minutes trying to pry an answer he liked from the tight-lipped red head, until Castiel had warned him that 'patience was a virtue'. Dean was ready to tell Castiel where he could stick his virtue.

"What does it have to do with us?"

Anna opened her eyes long enough to serve him with a disapproving glance. She closed her eyes again. "I can't find her. It's like…" The red head paused, leaning forward in her chair in the study to press two fingers to either temple. Brows furrowed, she took a deep breath, and released it slowly. Dean rolled his eyes and returned to the window. Aside from the occasional lightning illuminated glimpses of the rain-drenched junkyard, it was too dark to make anything out clearly. But that didn't stop Dean from trying.

He was worried.

With Lucifer out on the loose, and Jo and his son missing, each beat of his heart felt like a year had passed. Castiel tried assuring him they were safe, but Dean wasn't convinced. The only way he would believe they were safe was if she was standing in front of him, and Anthony was in his arms.

"What is it Anna?" Castiel's sombre tone brought Dean out of his reverie, and he turned around to see the red head slump in her seat frustrated.

"I can't find either of them! It's like…they've disappeared."

"How can they just disappear?" Ellen quizzed, looking distressed. She had been diligently cleaning Sam's wound (despite his embarrassed refusal), and had just finished sewing his last stich, when she heard Anna's dejected answer. Bobby placed a comforting hand on Ellen's shoulder. "They can't just-"

"Raziel," Castiel interrupted, face turned towards Dean. Dean frowned with confusion until he realised the Angel was actually looking out the window over his shoulder. Anna jumped to her feet as Castiel strode purposely towards the back door. Dean was quick to follow the Angel outside.

"Dean, wait!" Sam cried out after him, but the door slammed heavily behind him. It was alarmingly hot outside. Despite the fat, cold raindrops hurtling from the sky, the air was thick with humidity.

"Stay here," Castiel instructed Dean before stepping off the porch. Dean squinted into the darkness, trying to determine what the Angel's purpose was - until he saw it.

Eyes widening with fear, Dean leapt from the porch. Slipping and sliding in the mud, he sprinted towards the tall stranger dressed in a soaked business suit. Lighting streaked overhead, allowing Dean to recognize the limp female form dangling in the man's arms. Head bowed against the persistent rain, the stranger continued to stride through the mud towards them.

"What have you done to her, you son of a bitch?!" Dean demanded enraged, shoving Castiel aside roughly when the Angel reached out to restrain him. Jo's eyes fluttered deliriously. "Jo?" Dean gasped, his hand cupping the side of her cold face. The lighting overhead allowed him a split second peek at the violent finger shaped bruises staining both sides of her neck. "Give her to me," Dean hissed with trembling fingers. He held his arms out to the stranger, and the man deposited Jo heavily in to his arms.

"Raziel," Castiel greeted formally, unperturbed by the wind and rain slapping against his face. "I thought you had abandoned us."

"I did."

Dean curled Jo into his arms, trying to shield her face from the elements. She moaned as if in pain, and buried her face into the crook of his arms. Dean glared up the stranger with suspicious eyes. "What's wrong with her? Where's my son?"

Raziel did not answer him.

Instead the stranger kneeled in front of him, eyes cast respectfully towards the ground. Confused and panicked, Dean turned his head to find Castiel frowning. "What happened?" Castiel questioned Raziel with a hint of quiet fury in his tone.

"She made a choice, and so I made mine." The stranger answered gravely, lifting his head. He stood up, shoulders straightening. Dean caught sight of a long sword sheathed by the strangers' side. "I must go and join the Garrison. I have done as he asked, and returned his mother." The stranger nodded at someone over Dean's shoulder, and when he turned his head he caught a glimpse of red hair. "He has requested that you and Anna depart with me immediately."

"What's going on?" Dean demanded, glancing from face to face. None of them reacted like they had heard his question. Dean fumed. "Where the hell is my son?!" The sudden increase in wind and rain made it difficult to maintain his grip on Jo, and he started to back towards the house when Anna spoke up.

"What about Lucifer?"

"He is regrouping," Raziel responded, his next couple of words drowned out by the deep rumble of thunder above their heads. "…Raphael managed to expel him temporarily, but he is gathering force and might at an alarming rate…" A powerful roar followed another shriek of lightning. "…Angels have been recalled from Earth."

"JO!" Dean heard Ellen's boots splashing through the mud as she hurried towards them with an umbrella. "Dean, what happened?" she asked breathlessly, holding the umbrella over their bent heads. "Where's the baby?"

He felt the vibration of a muffled moan against his chest, and looked down at Jo. Her eyes were squeezed shut in what looked like pain. "Cas-" Dean started, and was livid when he realized the Angel's had disappeared without warning. "God Dammit!" He cursed stamping his foot. Mud sprayed up the inside of his already soaked jeans.

"Quickly! Let's get her inside!" Ellen shouted over another rumble of thunder. Dean nodded, and the elder Harvelle guided them back to the house while attempting to shield them from the hounding rain.

Bobby held the back door open, blankets ready in his arms. Dean squeezed past him. "What happened?" Sam asked, limping towards them ready to help. He hurried past Sam, and was careful not to slip as he lowered Jo onto the couch. Immediately he started to pull at her soaked shoes, and heavy denim. Ellen wordlessly assisted him, while Bobby went to fetch dry clothes from upstairs.

"Jesus, what did they do to you baby girl?" Ellen murmured, taking hold of Jo's arm, and extending it so that Dean could see the dark mottled bruises on her pale skin.

"I'm going to rip their damn feathers out one by one if I found out that they did this to her," Dean promised with a growl, taking the offered clothes from Bobby. With the help of Ellen, he quickly dressed her, and once finished they had Jo wrapped in a warm cacoon of blankets.

"Do you think they kidnapped Anthony?" Ellen whispered to Dean, pushing the wet strands of hair from Jo's face. Jo moaned in answer to her question, and curled into the back of the couch, her back to them.

"Jo?" Dean urged, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Can you tell us what happened?"

Ellen shook her head furiously at him. He understood her concern, but if their son was in danger, he needed to know. "Dean," the elder Harvelle warned. "She's obviously not in the position to-"

"He's gone."

Dean leaned forward, barely able to decipher the pained whisper. "What?" Jo's body went rigid, her breathing shallow. Dean swallowed thickly, the desire to shake a clear response from her squashed by his fear of the truth. "W-What?" he repeated apprehensively.

"Dean's, she's out of it," Bobby remarked, pulling on his shoulder. "There's no point jumping to conclusions when it's just delirious talk."

"She's asleep." Ellen withdrew her hand from Jo's forehead. She stood up and gave them all a pointed look. Dean didn't budge. Instead he placed a hand on Jo's blanket bound stomach.

"Jo, please… talk to me. What happened?"

"Dean!" Ellen barked, grabbing him by the collar. Dean barely had a chance to stop himself from falling flat on his ass before she towed him into the kitchen away from Jo. Once they were in the next room he shook her off.

"Dammit Ellen, I'm not five! You can't just drag people-"

"And you can't just pester an unconscious person!" Ellen lectured, pointing a finger at the couch in the study. "I'm just as worried about Anthony as you are, but that's also _my_ daughter in there, and I'm not having you jump up and down on her when's she obviously not in the right frame of mind to tell you anything. Just give her a few minutes, alright?"

"But if Lucifer has Anthony then we should-" Sam interjected, and was abruptly silenced when Ellen turned on him.

"Lucifer can kiss my lily white ass! There's no way that evil bastard has my grandson. If he did I'm sure we'd all by the first to know about it. Do you see any of Dean's Angel buddies running around like chickens with their heads cut off?" She glowered at the Winchester brothers. "No – we don't, and since we're not all dead right now, I'd say that the chances are that Anthony is still alive and safe."

Unconvinced, Dean shook his head. "How come they dumped Jo back on us looking like someone had used her as a bowling ball?" Dean countered, beginning to pace again. "If Anthony was safe, he'd be with us, and he's not. So I say either Lucifer has him or the Archangels took off with him. Both are unacceptable scenarios."

"He's with the Angels."

Dean whirled around. Jo was leaning heavily against the doorway, her eyes cast down to the floor.

"Jo, honey," Ellen soothed, winding an arm around her daughter. "Come and sit down. You look like you're about to collapse."

"I'm fine," Jo responded, her voice devoid of any emotion. She shook her mom's hand off her shoulder, and retreated backwards. Ellen dropped her arms confused. "I'm fine."

Dean's instincts went on high alert. He tried to catch her eye, but she continued to stare transfixed at the tiles. He approached her cautiously in the same way he might approach a frightened wild animal. "Jo? What happened? Did they take him from you?"

Jo flinched as his open hand brushed her shoulder, and she shook her head profusely. Dean felt the air squeezed from his lungs. He ran his arm down the length of her arm, his eyes pondering the deep bruises on her wrists, until he gently took hold of her fingers.

They were ice cold.

"I gave them permission."

He blinked. Once, twice, and a third time before he could register what she had murmured. "What did you say?"

Jo finally raised her face, revealing fresh tear tracks on her cheeks. "I said yes," she confessed regretfully. Dean heard Ellen gasp behind him. "It was the only way."

"I don't understand."

"Yes you do," Jo insisted, dropping her gaze back to the floor. "I gave Heaven my permission to take him."

"No," Dean growled, stepping forward to grasp hold of Jo's shoulders tightly. Ellen gasped her objections to his rough handling - but he ignored her. "You're lying. _You_ wouldn't do this to us. You wouldn't do that to _him_. He's our son."

"I had no choice!" Jo sobbed, her eyes stained with grief. He could feel her shaking underneath his iron grip. "Dean, please-"

"No," he whispered, his eyes widening as the truth of her words finally sunk in. "No!" He shook her shoulders, willing her to take back the poisonous words.

"Dean, there was nothing we could have done," she cried. "We knew this day was coming from the start. Castiel warned us that there was a choice I had to make-"

"It was _our_ choice to make!" Dean snarled and shoved her backwards.

Startled by his sudden action, Jo bumped into the doorframe. She stared back at him, a flame of anger drying the tears on her face. He clenched his fists frustrated. He hadn't meant to push her so hard. He hadn't meant to push her at all, but…

"It was always _my_ choice to make, Dean," Jo hissed, straightening her shoulders, and stepping away from the wall. She advanced on him, and shoved him backwards. "And it was either good or evil. So I chose good."

"You should have chosen neither!" Dean protested heatedly. He barely acknowledged Bobby's restraining hand on his bicep. "You're his mother!" He shouted at her. "You're supposed to protect him. He's just a baby – an innocent. How could you be so heartless and cold?"

"Heartless?" Jo raged taking a furious step towards him. Bobby's worn hands clamped down on his shoulders while Ellen appeared from nowhere to wrap a hand around Jo's arm. "I did it to _save_ him!" Jo defended, her eyes flicking to her mom's face for understanding.

Ellen was staring at her feet.

Jo's face twisted with hurt from the betrayal. She frowned at the elder Harvelle, before facing Dean. "I did what I had to in order to protect our son," she said, and continued despite the fact that Dean was shaking his head. "Lucifer was there, Dean. He had me cornered. He never would have stopped." Dean scoffed at her words, and she scowled. "He would have killed Anthony, and millions of other children like him in a heart beat. He would have destroyed the world, Dean."

"So instead you played chess with our son?" Dean snipped. "Did you even pause for a second before you tossed him over? Did you stop for a _second_ to think about the sacrifice? Why does he have to die so that _you_ can live? It's supposed to be the other way around." He paused, glancing at Ellen for support. "Any _good_ mother knows that."

Jo reacted exactly how he had expected. She recoiled into Ellen as if Dean had physically struck her. He took pleasure in the small victory of her pain, before her devastated brown eyes got the better of him, and he forced himself to turn away from her in disgust. Bobby's hand fell from his arm in what he suspected was shock.

"Dean-" Sam breathed, his tone full of disapproval and disbelief.

"You weren't there, Dean," Jo's pained filled voice whispered. "I made the choice you never would have been able to make."

Dean turned on her. "Because I would have protected him! He's my son, and I would have done everything in my power to keep him safe."

"I did do everything in my power!"

"Bullshit!" He snarled, pointing an accusing finger at her. "Things got a little scary, and the first chance you got you tossed him and ran!"

"Dean, you know that's not what-"

"Enough!" Dean snapped, stepping backwards abruptly. He bumped into Sam, accidentally kneeing the fresh stitched wound on his leg. He moved away from his brother, but his eyes never left Jo. After a few tense seconds, he took a deep breath, and turned his back on her. "You make me sick."

"Dean-"

"Sam," Dean called out, heading to the backdoor. He paused, waiting only for his brother. "We're leaving," He announced.

"Dean, you're not going anywhere." Bobby argued. "You're not thinking clearly."

"Sam!"

"Everyone just stop for a second!" Ellen cried out, and hurried to Dean's side. "Honey, I know you're upset and confused. We all are – but running away isn't the answer. Let's just talk about it."

"You stay. You talk. I'm done," Dean responded coldly. He glanced over his shoulder, and met Jo's tear soaked face with a vindictive snarl. "_We're_ done."

Throwing the door open, he allowed it to slam into the wall. Wind and rain instantly whipped towards his face in greeting. He barely felt it. Sam was behind him, mumbling something to Bobby – but Dean wasn't interested. He stepped off the porch, and marched to the waiting Impala. The familiar squeak was comforting.

"DEAN!" He slammed his door shut on her petrified cry. Starting the engine, he barely waited long enough for Sam to slide inside before slamming his foot down on the accelerator. The tyres spun wildly in the mud before finding purchase on the gravel. He didn't bother looking back as they hurtled down the driveway.

"Where are we going?" Sam asked quietly when they reached the road.

"To hell," Dean replied through gritted teeth.

"Should we stop and get some snacks?"

"Sam."

"Got it. Driver. Cakehole. Shutting it."

* * *

Was it worth the wait? No? LOL! My bad. More on the way...!


	22. Chapter 22

**Rated: R for horror**

**Authors Notes: **Thanks everybody for hanging in there. I finally have the new chapter up, which means we are two chapters away from the finish lines. Woot! But before I continue I want to say a special thank you to all of your who have sent reviews, support and encouragement. I try to respond to every single one, and If i've missed thanking you I'm sorry, and thank you! I really do appreciate it! Hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

* * *

'**The Day The Whole World Went Away'**

"Hi… Umm, Dean? It's Lucas Barr umm from Lake Manitoc… umm you said if .. umm … anything weird happened again I should call you… and w-well it's my… my m-mom…….she's… she's dead. She drowned…in the shower."

"Hi Sam… damn, I really hope you gave me the right number. It's Sarah. Sarah Blake from New York. My father owns the auction house you and your brother came to check out a few years back. I don't know if you even remember me… but.. Listen I never thought I'd ever need to call you again, but… a few of our clients… well… they're dead. No sign of a break in or anything that would suggest a burglar… all the houses were locked, and the alarms were set… anyway… it's weird… and after last time… I thought you'd know what to do… or even if this was the same thing. Please… when you get the chance, please call me."

"H-hello? I was looking for Jo Harvelle – she said if I couldn't reach her to try your number. My name is Theresa. I met you guys in tunnels under my old apartment block in Philadelphia… my God, and to think all those hours of therapy were wasted… remember how you said that, that… creature was never going to be able to escape? Well a couple of my old neighbours have gone missing… and… I think he's out. What do I do? What if he tracks me down? Please call me. I need your help."

"Will you shut up for a second, Harry? I am… shhhh it's just his voice mail. Yo Dean, buddy - what's up? Now I know we've had our differences in the past, but from one ghost hunter to another I was just wondering, completely hypothetically, if say a ghost that had passed over… you know, came back to visit and say 'hi' or whatever, should one… you know … go back to the house and… you know, hypothetically speaking, repeat the whole process again? I mean we can handle it no problems, but… I was after your professional opinion…what? Harry, it's going to cut off any min-"

"Dean? Umm, I don't know if you remember me. My name is Ben Braeden. You're a friend of my mom, Lisa? Well… she doesn't know I'm calling you, and I'll probably be grounded for a million years if she finds out I stole her cell but, well some of the kids in my neighbourhood have been acting weird… just like last time… and you seemed to know what to do last time so… umm.. can you call me back? But don't tell my mom ok? She'd freak."

***

Jo groaned, and dragged the covers over her face to block out the sunlight burning through the gaps in the curtain. Bobby's heavy boots thumped past her bedroom door and down the staircase, and she knew she'd have to get out of bed before he came back to check on her. Eyes still closed, she sat up slowly in bed, and tried to force herself awake.

It had stopped raining.

Eyes snapping open, she cursed when the light burnt her sensitive retinas. _Sunlight_. After endless weeks of rain, it was suddenly sunny. Jo stumbled out of bed, and threw the curtains open. There wasn't a single cloud in the sky. The strong sunrays flittered across her body, attempting to bathe her in its insistent warmth, but she recoiled away from it as if it had scalded her.

Jo snapped the curtains shut. _'Great. The war in Heaven must be over now,'_ she thought sourly, and dragged her tired limbs into the bathroom. Tossing her nightshirt on the floor, she turned the taps on, and stepped directly into the cold water.

The freezing temperature should have bothered her, but strangely it didn't. Instead, she turned the taps on to full strength, and immersed herself completely. _'So I guess Heaven expects us to live happily ever after now?'_ she wondered, turning around in the shower, and fumbling for the shampoo bottle. _'I suppose they think I should be grateful for being able to live out the rest of my existence alone… my __entire__ existence, knowing what I've done to earn that privilege.'_

She opened the shampoo bottle. Instead of the roses and peach scent that normally accompanied the bottle, Jo detected something entirely different. She sniffed the bottle. It smelt like… copper? It smelt like… like something rotten… something _bloody._

Jo slowly opened her eyes, and promptly dropped the bottle in fright. Blood. Her hands were covered in blood. Heart racing, Jo raised her hands to her face. There was so much blood. It slid down her palms, her arms, her stomach, and her feet.

Gasping, Jo spun around and she stared up at the faucet and screamed. Blood poured from the showerhead. She quickly turned the taps off, the smell making her woozy.

She stumbled out of the shower, and shrieked when she realised the floor was flooded with blood as well. Jo twisted around, searching for the source of the blood, but her panicked state only took notice of the way her footsteps sprayed more warm blood against her legs. She opened her mouth to call out for Bobby when another noise silenced her.

Crying.

"No, no, no." Shaking violently, Jo swept through the now ankle deep blood toward the vanity sink. The crying was coming from inside the waste bin beside the toilet. Stumbling, she grasped the basket, and screamed in horror when she saw Anthony's limp body wedged inside. His filmy green eyes stared up at her accusingly.

"No!"

Jo woke up screaming.

"Jo, sweetie it's ok! It's just me. You had another nightmare." Her mom's concerned face slowly replaced the horrific vision in the bathroom. Panting, Jo focused on her mom's blurry face. Two deep breaths later, she slowly released the death grip on her mom's arm. "You're ok, now. Everything is fine. It was just a dream."

Still trying to suck oxygen back into her tender lungs, she fell backwards onto her twisted sheets and pillows. Jo turned her head to glance at the window. Rain fell steadily from the dark grey sky. Letting out a relieved sigh, she dragged her shaking hand over her sweat-stained forehead.

"You with me now, honey?" Jo nodded, but didn't drag her gaze away from the window. She felt the slightest pressure of a squeeze on her hand, and the mattress spring back. "I'm going to go make you some breakfast. Coffee and toast sound alright?"

Jo didn't answer.

Instead she rolled onto her side, and stared out the window. The junkyard looked exactly the same as it had everyday for the last two months.

The bedroom door shut behind her mom, and she waited until the footsteps descended downstairs before she allowed the tears to come. Lying as still as stone, the tears dribbled down her face, and pooled on the pillow beneath her head.

The nightmares were getting worse.

Sitting up in bed, she wiped the tears away with the sheets like she did every morning, and pulled some sweat pants on. Without glancing in the mirror (she knew she looked like shit), she opened the door, and made her way down the hallway towards the staircase.

She couldn't stand the sound of their whispers.

Pausing at the top of the stairs, Jo turned her head, and half-heartedly listened to the hissed conversation between her mom and Bobby. They were worried about her, that much was obvious, but there was something else behind their actions.

Suspicion.

Not many people would have noticed that their coffee tasted a little flat, or that their orange juice was a little watery… but Jo noticed, and Jo deliberately swallowed every holy water infused drink without question. She didn't comment or object to the fact that every room she entered was lined with salt, or that when she went to sleep at night both Bobby and her mom routinely walked passed her bedroom door every couple of hours to check on her.

But it was the hushed phone calls, and the murmured arguments that were starting to grate on her nerves. After Dean and Sam had left, she had explained what had happened to Anthony to her mom and Bobby. When she finished, she waited impatiently for her mom to hug her tight, and tell her it was going to be fine – that she would have made the same choice in her position. But Ellen Harvelle was uncharacteristically silent, and instead of a hug she handed her a glass of whiskey, and told her to get some rest.

"She's not eating enough."

"She was never a big eater, Elle."

"She's sleeping too much."

"Well she did have a radical pregnancy, her body is just catching up."

"There's no spark in her eyes, it's like talking to a wall. I've never seen her like this."

"Give her a chance Elle, she's been to hell and back."

"She hasn't spoken since that night."

"She will when she's ready."

"She keeps screaming in her sleep."

"It's just the nightmares causing it - Can you blame her?"

"Maybe we need to take her to the doctors after all? Maybe they can give her something to help her sleep-"

"Ellen, just be patient. She's doing the best she can."

"Don't tell me how to treat me daughter. I'm her mother! It's my job to worry about her."

"And Dean is like a son to me, but you don't see me hovering, and asking him if he's okay every two seconds. Give her some space to breath."

"You're the one who's been spiking her drinks."

"And you're the one who put salt in the shower head. Don't act like I'm the bad guy in all this."

"Well don't accuse me of not knowing what is best for my daughter."

"I wasn't-"

Jo couldn't bear to listen to anymore. She knew where the argument was headed – she'd been listening to it play out every couple of days. Jo was pretty sure she could finish it for them if she decided to break her silence.

"Ellen, what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that maybe this isn't the best place for her or me."

Jo froze. Ears straining, she eavesdropped on the change in the argument.

"So you're just running away?"

"I'm not running away from anything! I'm just saying that maybe a change in location would do her some good. We can't stay here forever, Bobby."

"I'm not saying you should, but with the way you're talking you're makin' it sound like you're not planning on coming back."

"What do you want from me, Bobby? Jo's my daughter – I'm trying to help her."

"Sounds to me like you're using her as an excuse to run away because things are a little tough right now."

"Don't you dare give me a lecture on running away, Robert Singer!"

"Fine - but don't expect me to listen to your bullshit."

"I can't believe you just said that."

The phone rang, startling a gasp out of Jo. She was quick to back away from the staircase as her mom swept in to the study to answer the phone. Carefully she tip toed her way down the hallway.

There was a dull thump that sounded suspiciously like a fist connecting with a wall. Jo waited, hesitating in the hallway until she could identify the caller. She felt an embarrassing flare of hope in her stomach, before her mom revealed who she was speaking to.

"Hey, Sam. No sweetheart, it's not a bad time."

Guilt pierced her already broken heart, and Jo retreated to her bedroom. Tears prickled her eyes. Everything was so messed up. The two people she depended on most were turning against each other – and it was her fault. She raked her overgrown sharp fingernails through her greasy hair as she tried to work out what to do next.

Her crumpled weapons bag, empty, sat forgotten in a chair by the window. Trapping her butchered lip between her teeth, she considered her options while gazing out the window. It was still raining, but it was barely more than a drizzle now, and would not hamper her ability to drive. She heard the creak of floorboards as Bobby shuffled past Jo's room, his breathing uneven.

She had to leave before it was too late.

Once Bobby's footsteps returned to the staircase, she quickly began to empty the draws of what little possessions she owned. She found the pearl covered knife Dean had left for her under the bed, and hesitated. The light glinted off the edge of the blade, and she dropped the suddenly heavy knife on to the bed. Turning back to the task at hand, she gathered her toothbrush, and one of Bobby's toothpaste tubes from the bathroom, (she deliberately left her shampoo bottle behind), and zipped her bag shut.

Dressing in stiff, cold jeans, she tied her hair back with an elastic and put a bra on for the first time in weeks. T-shirt on, she zipped her waterproof hooded jacket up to her neck and glanced around the room one last time. _'I should probably leave a note,' _she mused, groaning inwardly. She quickly searched the room for some paper, but only found an old bible. Finding a free page, she scrawled a message to her mom, and propped it against the pillows.

With sadness coating the regret in her heart, she tucked her hair into her hood, and raised the damp window. The rain was cold against her face, but she pressed on, and climbed out of the window. The gutter was conveniently located to the left of the window, and with some degree of slippery awkwardness, she climbed down and snuck out to the garage housing her truck.

Bobby explained weeks ago how he had rescued the truck from the impound after the demon who had killed her dumped it, and she had almost broken her silence and thanked him. But she didn't and instead she had simply patted the bonnet and taken the keys from him.

Those same keys shook as she opened the door, and slid inside, her sneakers squeaking over the pedals. Backing the truck out slowly, she noticed the lights snap on inside her bedroom upstairs. Jo felt her stomach bottom out. Tearing her gaze away from the house, she slammed the accelerator down just as the porch door burst open.

The last glance in the review mirror displayed a distraught Ellen leaping off the back porch.

***

"Dude – is it just me or is every single hunt we've ever done coming back for some sick reunion special?" Sam asked his brother, flopping onto the motel bed exhausted.

Dean grunted in agreement, and turned the page on their dad's old hunting journal. He pulled out a red pen from his jacket pocket, and placed a small tick on the corner of the journal page. The page consisted of a mess of shaky running writing (their dad's handwriting), that explained the habits of a djinn. The Xeroxed picture that accompanied the text was an exact replica of the tattooed 'hungry smurf' they had killed hours earlier.

It had been two months. Two months of what Sam thought of as de ju vu as the Winchester brothers revisited their past haunts. After talking to Bobby, the brothers came to the conclusion that upon freeing himself from the depths of hell, Lucifer had left the back door wide open, and all the evil they had spent years killing had returned in a single night. Now it was a race against time to help who they could, and send the evil SOB's back to hell.

Sam huffed a sigh, and stared up at the ceiling of the motel room. It was quiet. With the absence of a TV or a radio blaring, the only thing Sam could hear was the scratching of Dean's biro against the stiff journal pages. In another lifetime Sam might have appreciated the quiet, but the constant strained silence was starting to concern him.

He and Bobby hoped that after a few days of being left alone, Dean would finally snap out of his silent zombie like trance. Yet as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks were now turning into months, Sam was at a loss as to what to do. He had never seen Dean so… so shut down.

Though Sam had seen similar behaviour exhibited by someone else.

More and more, Dean was transforming into their long dead father. Sam had been much too young to remember how his dad had acted those first years of his life, but by age four he learnt when to keep his mouth shut, when to eat his dinner without argument, and when to pretend to be asleep. John Winchester was an easy person to live with – as long as stayed out of his way, and did every single thing he asked you to.

"What do you feel like for dinner?" Sam queried, sitting up and hooking his long legs over the side of the bed. He waited for a response, but after a few minutes Dean simply turned the page, and jotted down additional notes and corrections to the journal. "Dean!"

"What?" Dean grunted, lifting his gaze from the journal. Sam had hoped he was finally getting through Dean's wall and was about to have his first real conversation in days until he realised Dean was comparing notes from the book in front of him. He continued to write in the journal, seemingly oblivious to Sam's presence.

"Earth to Dean? What do you want for dinner?"

"Whatever you want," Dean mumbled, crossing something out in the corner of the journal. "I'm not really hungry."

Sam frowned, and stood up. The time for a gentle approach was over. "Dean, when was the last time you ate?"

Dean sighed, and threw his pen down. His expression made it obvious that he was annoyed at having been interrupted. "I don't know…Breakfast at that diner on main street?" His eyes dodged Sam's concerned gaze.

"Breakfast?" Sam repeated incredulously. "Dean, that was yesterday morning."

"So?"

Sam let out an exasperated sigh. "So?" He placed a firm hand on Dean's shoulder. "Dean, you're not eating, you're not sleeping… you're not even drinking. I have to remind you to shower, and you haven't shaved in weeks."

As if it had only just occurred to him, Dean gently ran his fingers through the thick, grizzly hair on his chin. "Huh," Dean responded absently. "So I've gotten a little lazy. I never let it interfere with a hunt. I haven't slipped or messed up once."

"I know that." Sam was quick to assure him. "I'm not questioning your ability to hunt at all. In fact I have never seen you this… focused. But Dean, I'm worried you are going to burn out. Why don't you just take a night off from research, and we can go out to a bar, and just have a beer or something?"

Dean frowned. "Sure, Sam and while we're at it, why don't we just hand Lucifer a bunch on souls on a silver platter?" He turned back to the journal. "Stop being such a mother hen, and go get dinner. God help us if I skip another meal."

"Dammit, Dean!" Sam exclaimed, tugging at his brother's shoulder. "You know I'm only worried about you!"

"Well stop it!" Dean snarled, standing up, and shoving Sam backwards. "I'm fine, okay? Look - I'll go and shave right now if it'll make you stop clucking."

"Dean, I don't care about the damn facial hair! I care about what is happening to you. I know losing Anthony was-" But it was too late. Dean slammed the bathroom door shut, and started running water in the basin. Sam sighed, and scrubbed a hand through his now short hair. Grabbing his wallet he scooped up the motel key, and headed out to grab them a pizza.

Once he had unlocked the Impala and slipped inside, he dialled Bobby's number. "Hey, Bobby."

"Sam – you alright?"

"I'm fine."

"And Dean?"

"The same." He leant back in the seat, and let out a depressed sigh. "How's things at your end?"

"Jo's not doing much better I'm afraid," he answered gruffly. "Ellen was going to take her to the docs to get her some sleeping pills or something for the nightmares, because the screaming was unlike anything I've ever heard, but then Jo took off one night without an explanation. She's not hunting, but we've been tracking her movements. She's just kinda going from town to town, never staying longer than a couple of days, but there's no pattern to it, her choices are very random."

"What are we going to do, Bobby?" Sam asked, absently fiddling with the dials on Dean's car. A year ago he wouldn't have dared to do so much as breath near the dials, but now he knew he could replace the tape deck with a CD player and ipod dock, and Dean wouldn't even notice. "I don't know how to get through to Dean. He's just like dad, but a hundred times worse. I've tried everything I can think of. It's just like… he's waiting for something."

"Waiting for what?"

"I don't know." Sam paused, a dark thought crossing his mind. He didn't want to say what he really thought, but there was no denying Dean's behaviour. "Waiting to die maybe?"

Bobby swore. "I think you should both come here for a couple of days-"

"I've tried!" Sam insisted. "But he wont hear of it. He says he wont give up on them."

"Who?"

"The innocents – the ones that need rescuing from evil."

"Bunch of idjits. I could kill 'em both, really I could."

Something heavy thudded against the window beside Sam, causing him to startle. "Jesus, Dean," he scolded, winding the window down furiously. "What are you doing?"

Dean's face, now freshly shaven, was unreadable. His eyes flicked towards the cell phone he had accidentally dropped when he had been surprised. "Who are you talking to?"

"Bobby." Dean's features hardened. Surprised, Sam scooped up the phone and made his apologies. "Bobby, I'll call you later, ok?"

"Look after each other."

"Will do." Sam pressed end, and turned to face his brother, when he realised Dean had disappeared. "Dean?" He called out, pushing the door open. A hunched figure stormed across the parking lot, his head bent against the rain. "Dean, wait up!"

Sam locked the Impala and chased after his brother. "I thought you wanted to grab some dinner," Dean responded coldly when Sam finally caught up.

"I did…_am,_ I was just checking in with Bobby first."

Dean didn't appear to have heard him. He crossed the main highway without looking or stopping for cars. Sam's eyes widened, and he waved a hand in apology to a mini van that honked infuriated with Dean's lack of awareness. "She made her choice, she can live with it," Dean grumbled, his eyes never leaving the ground. "It's none of her business what I'm doing. I blocked her number for a reason."

Sam frowned with confusion, and came to an abrupt stop. Dean continued to move swiftly down the footpath, his hands jammed deeply in his pockets. Turning his head to the right, Sam realised he was standing in front of the pizza shop.

It was filled with children celebrating a little boy's 6th birthday. He opened his mouth to call out after Dean, but promptly shut his mouth when Dean stormed across the street.

"Dean has not been answering my calls."

Sam whirled around. Castiel stood in his usual garb of a wrinkled blue business suit and tan trench coat. "Castiel – what are you doing here?"

"The rain has stopped." Sam blinked, and lifted his gaze to the night sky. He hadn't even noticed that the storm clouds that had been smothering the sky for the last two months had suddenly melted away to reveal a beautiful inky blue, star-studded sky. "The war in Heaven is over. Lucifer has been successfully banished from Heaven once again."

"Are you serious?" Sam exclaimed flabbergasted. He glanced down the street, but could no longer see his brothers' tense form. "It worked? Anthony defeated Lucifer? It's all over now?"

Castiel shook his head. "Not yet." He followed Sam's gaze. "Lucifers attempt to gain a stronghold on Heaven has been thwarted, and he will never be strong enough to attempt it again." The Angel lifted a silvery, glowing vial hanging from a delicate necklace from under his shirt. "Anthony extracted Cadmiel's grace," he explained. Before Sam could open his mouth to comment, Castiel continued. "As feared Lucifer has now turned his wrath on earth, and has targeted one human in particular."

"Jo," Sam presumed.

"There have been contingency plans put in place long ago to protect her, but I am afraid it will not be enough. Anthony plans to deal with Lucifer once and for all - but he choses not to do it alone, and while Heaven is committed to protecting this world, a great many of us were killed and injured during the battle."

"Anna?"

Castiel's head fell and he avoided Sam's eyes. The younger Winchester was surprised by the deep sadness that appeared to leak from the normally stoic Angel. After a few tense minutes, Castiel raised his head. He straightened his shoulders and Sam could tell that he was struggling to keep his face emotionless. "She was one of the first to fall."

"Cas, I'm so sorry."

Castiel turned away, dismissing his sympathy. "She is at peace now. Raziel saw to it that her soul arrived to the other side safely and without delay. Lucifer can do no harm to her now."

"I don't understand-"

"And you wont fully until it is your time." Before Sam could question him further, Castiel turned around to face him. "What matters now is that you prepare Dean. Anthony has asked for his father to meet him in Los Angels."

Sam was flabbergasted. "Wait - He'll get to see Anthony? Talk to him?" he questioned, his heart beating franticly against his chest. Hope flared inside his lungs. Dean would be able to see his son again.

Castiel nodded. He reached inside his trench coat, and produced a folded piece of paper. "You have 24 hours to meet us at this address."

Sam took the offered note with a shaking hand. Opening it, he frowned at the address, when suddenly another thought crossed his mind. "What about Jo?" he interrogated the Angel. "Will she be there?"

"Twenty four hours, Sam." With a blink of an eye the Angel disappeared, leaving a distressed Sam standing on the sidewalk alone.

***

"Honestly Jacob, I don't know how you managed to get so dirty in the space of two seconds. Look at that – you've got chocolate in your ears!"

"Excuse me." Jo squeezed past the woman scrubbing sundae sauce off her son's face at the basin in the fast food washrooms. The little boy struggled against his mother's insistent swipes at his face with a wet cloth.

"Mama.. no."

"Don't you 'No' me Mr! This is the last time I ever let your father be in charge of buying you food. What was he thinking, letting you have an ice cream for dinner?"

Jo hurried out of the bathroom. The door swung shut, and she quickly strode out of the brightly lit restaurant. It had been a mistake to stop at the popular burger chain. She hadn't realised the time until she was placing her order for a double bacon cheeseburger, and realised the place was crawling with familles.

Suppressing the emotions swirling inside her stomach, she climbed into her truck and quickly pulled out of the car park. Thanks to a winning hand of poker at some dodgy bar back in Carson City, Jo didn't need to worry about money for the time being, but she didn't feel like finding a motel to spend the night in. Instead, she followed the open roads like she had been doing for the last couple of weeks, and let the truck take her where ever.

The voice in the back of her brain that sounded strangely similar to her mothers voice, told her it was dangerous to be driving about with her mind only half there. But another part of her, a darker unexplored raw side of her, loved the freedom and revelled in the random destinations.

Smooth tar disappeared from under the car, and was replaced with a gritty dirt road. Her truck bounced happily along road, and only when the vegetation went from pretty, dainty apple trees lining the edge of the road, to thick forest did she turn on her high beams.

A sharp left turn begged her to adjust her speed, and she took the well-trodden road to the right that was marked as a camping site. For a second she considered turning around until she realised it was deserted. The trees fell away enough to reveal a small clearing overlooking a small river. Jo parked the car.

It was then that she noticed it wasn't raining.

A sense of trepidation settled in her stomach as she stepped out of the truck. Jo followed the small path to a long forgotten fire pit, and continued on to the river. Little disgruntled frogs greeted her presence with a chorus of grumpy croaks. She was careful not to step on any of them as she made her way to the edge of the creek. It wasn't the picture perfect kind of river, but to Jo it was comforting and reminiscent of the river a mile from her mom's roadhouse – and most importantly it was void of human occupation.

A boom echoed over her head, and she looked up alarmed. A large flame encircled object streaked across the sky. For a second she wondered if it was a shooting star, but the deafening sound that followed it's progress across the sky told her otherwise. Jo ran back to the truck, and switched the radio on.

"… has destroyed half of California. Experts say that the 50 mile wide asteroid entered earths atmosphere approximately ten minutes ago and appeared out of nowhere. Authorities are claming the disaster as the largest-"

Jo switched the radio off, her eyes wide. Making a decision, she reached into her glove compartment, and yanked out her cell phone. Switching it on for the first time in a week, she was startled when she caught sight of a face in the review mirror.

Whirling around, she gasped when she found a teenage boy lounging in the backseat of truck. "Who the hell are you?" She demanded, already reaching for the gun hidden under her seat.

"You don't recognise me?"

He smiled innocently, his green eyes warm and inviting. Jo covered her mouth with a shaking hand. "It can't be." The gun fell from her hand onto her lap. Hands shaking, she reached towards him.

"I missed you too, mom."

***

Sipping his coffee, Bobby turned the page on the heavy textbook he was scouring for Rufus. He was about to reach out for a post it note when Ellen burst into the room, a dishtowel in hand.

"Bobby, you're gonna wanna see this."

Hefting himself to his tired feet, he followed her into the den. Ellen turned the volume up on the TV.

"As you can see from these very disturbing images, the state of California has been crippled by the Asteroids scorching impact."

Bobby's mouth fell open in shock as the camera panned over a smoking black crater. In the far off distance burnt palm trees could be seen hanging pathetic to the left. The camera angle changed and focused in on several men dressed in radiation suits surveying the giant hole with their equipment.

"There aint nothing natural about that giant rock," Ellen observed, sharing a worried glance with him. "They say it took ten seconds to streak from space to earth. The jackasses at NASA are scratching their heads."

"We better call the kids – make sure they were clear of this mess or if they have any idea of what's going on."

"I've already tried Jo and Sam – neither are answering," Ellen put it, throwing the dish towel over her shoulder. "But I think I'll try some contacts I've got in San Diego."

"Good, I'll call some hunters I know working a job close by."

"Bobby-" Ellen paused, her eyes troubled. "Do you think… do think we lost?"

Bobby shrugged. "I have no doubt that Lucifer has something behind the disaster, but I doubt it's because we lost. The skies would be raining blood or something as equally weird if it was."

Ellen nodded, and before she could move away, Bobby engulfed her in a large hug. Kissing the top of her forehead, he continued to try to reassure her. "I'm sure that if Anthony is anything like his parents, he's probably booted Lucifer's ass to the curb and this is Lucifer's way of stumbling to his feet."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Well, we're still alive aren't we?"

Ellen nodded, but she sighed heavily, her gaze locked on the TV. "But for how much longer?"

***

"It's all… gone. Everything. It's a wasteland," Sam breathed as the Impala slowly made it's way to the edge of the disaster zone. The streets were crammed with every kind of an emergency vehicle, and military truck the surrounding states could spare.

Dean was quick to slide out his FBI badge as a police officer ordered them to stop. A media news truck attempted to inch around him, but was blocked off by a military barricade. "Gentleman, turn your car around, there's no-"

"FBI," Dean boomed in a no nonsense tone. Sam held up his ID along side with his brother. They had changed into their business suits back in a Taco Bell bathroom in anticipation of the lock down.

The tired officer glanced at their ID's before waving them on. He glared at the news van behind them, and ordered them to get back. A deputy lifted the barricade for them, and allowed the Winchesters passage. Searching franticly for a free spot to park, Dean caught sight of a familiar truck. "Bobby's here."

Squeezing the Impala behind a cop car, the brothers made their way towards a small crowd lingering at the edge of another set of barricades manned by the military. Dean cleared his throat as they approached the crowd. "Detectives," he greeted, and tried not to grimace when Ellen turned around.

Mindful of the guards eyeing them critically from the barricades, Ellen nodded at the boys, her eyes shinning with relief. "About time you two showed up," Bobby barked, acting for all his worth like their superior. "We're about to make our way into the zone."

Dean nodded, understanding Bobby's intentions. "Any survivors, Sir?"

Figuring everything was legit, the guard moved away to speak with one of the airmen briefing several men dressed in radiation suits. Bobby was about to comment when a police officer approached them. "You agents are free to go in now. The scientists say the radiation levels are safe. Just watch your step, a lot of the ground is still hot and you'll have to watch out for embers."

"Thank you, Officer Gregs," Bobby acknowledged with a nod of his head. He motioned for Dean, Sam, Ellen and four other suit clad men to follow him. The guards watched them leave.

Sam nudged Dean. "Isn't that Rufus?" he asked, motioning to the man talking to Ellen in hushed tones.

Dean caught sight of the familiar hunter and nodded. The group continued to follow behind Bobby, who was clearly enjoying the role as team leader. After a few minutes of silently walking through what used to be someone's backyard, they followed a small worn path that opened up to reveal a rickety stair case leading down the cliff.

Rufus whistled. Standing at the top of the cliff they had an uninterrupted view of the mammoth smoking pit in the middle of what used to be known as 'Hollywood'. The entire busy city had now been reduced to an enormous blistering hole in California. The silence was eerie.

Strong winds blew in from the South, bringing with it the smell of sulphur and death. It was overwhelming. "Let's go. Everyone watch their step." Bobby led the group down the staircase, careful to avoid putting too much weight on the heat bowed steps. Dean glanced over at his shoulder to make sure none of the military were following them before he called out to Bobby. "Did you bring the stuff?"

"We brought as much weaponry as we could without making the authorities suspicious," Bobby confirmed, glancing back at the elder Winchester. He reached the bottom of the staircase and began to forge a path threw the crippled tar road. There were two more smaller hills they had to make their way down before they reached flat ground. "The two guys in radiation suits that passed us are one of us. Ernie and Louie smuggled in more guns and knives and stashed them at the bottom of that burnt out palm tree down there."

He stopped to point out the half buried silver toolboxes at the bottom of the 1st hill, when the blackened step beneath Ellen's foot gave way. She cried out in surprise as she started to slide down the hill, until Dean and Sam reached out and snagged her by the arms. No sooner had they dragged her backwards, Rufus swore as the soil underneath him buckled, and he fell tumbled head over heels down the hill. Bobby shouted after him. More embarrassed than injured Rufus waved him off, and stood up shaking dirt and ash from his hair.

Glancing around at the small group accompanying them, Dean frowned. "We've got more hunters coming than this right?" he carefully sidestepped a quivering pile of soil and drove his heels into the soft ground. He could feel the heat through his thick soles. Once he was sure of his footing, he managed to make it the rest of the way down the hill without fault.

He studied their surroundings. Something wasn't right – he could feel in his bones. This was a trap. Looking around at the graveyard of blackened trees, he tried to strategically work out an escape plan if things went back. Dean didn't like their chances. From what he could see there was no cover, no protection from an attack or the increasingly sweltering temperature. "While I'm not questioning anyone's abilities here, If this really is the battle against Lucifer, we're going to need more than a handful of hunters."

"Thanks genius," Rufus snapped, slapping him with a disapproving glare. "More hunters are on their way, but there are six others already heading towards us from the other side." He pointed to the other side of the valley, and sure enough Dean made out a group of people cautiously navigating their way down the cliffs.

Bobby started to unpack the silver toolboxes, and started passing out shotguns, salt rounds and iron knives. Rufus made a fuss about requesting the grenades.

Taking the offered shotgun from Dean, Sam leant forward to confess his misgivings. "Dean?" He glanced down at the next hill they had to descend before they hit solid ground. Unfortunately even from the top of the cliffs, the hunters had been unable to peer into the very depths of the crater. "Dean, I can feel them. There are demons here somewhere."

Dean's jaw hardened.

Before he could assure his brother that there was no other way, Rufus started to argue Bobby's plan to approach the pit directly - he wanted to use grenades to draw Lucifer out of the hole. A skinny, freckled man kept glancing at the pit with a frown. "Are we even sure that Lucifer is in there? Why is he just sitting there? What is he waiting for?"

"You."

Dean and Sam were the only ones who didn't jump, and automatically train their weapons on the trench coat clad Angel. Castiel turned to Sam, unconcerned by the guns aimed at his head. "You're late."

"We came as fast as we could," Dean snapped defensively, tucking a knife into his pocket. "If you haven't noticed this place is crawling with authorities and if we came charging in here you'd be trying to bail us out of a cell right now."

Sam sent Dean an exasperated look, but was ignored. He grimaced in apology to the Angel for his brother's behaviour. "What's the plan, Cas?"

Castiel straightened importantly. "Anthony will inform you."

"What?" Dean's head whipped towards Castiel. His eyes darkened as he scrutinized the Angel. "What did you just say?"

Confused by the elder Winchesters reaction, he turned to observe Sam with a disapproving look. "You did not tell him?"

All eyes fell on Sam. He shrugged nonchalantly, avoiding Dean's glacial eyes. "Do you think he would have showed up if I told him the truth?"

"What's going on?" Ellen piped up, her gaze flittering from Dean to Sam to Castiel. "Sam told us that the Angels confirmed that the disaster was caused by Lucifer, and that you needed our help to defeat him."

"Come," Castiel ordered, disregarding Ellen's concerns. He turned on his heel and led them towards the next hill. "He wishes to speak with you all."

"Dean, I'm –" Sam tried to apologize, but Dean raised his hand to silence his brother. Shooting him an infuriated look, Dean shoved past Bobby, and followed Castiel down the hill. What had once been a mansion tucked into the crevice of the hill, was now a twisted grey and black pile of rubble. Dean's eyes quickly counted six men wondering around rubble. They did not look up as the group approach them slowly.

"What are you doing, kid?" Dean heard Bobby hiss behind him, as they picked their way through a pile of rocks.

"Castiel told me he was sent to prepare us for a fight against Lucifer. He said that the Angels couldn't do this alone."

"Then were is-" Ellen's question was interrupted when Castiel raised his hand and ordered them to halt.

The six men that Dean had noticed earlier came towards them, their faces grim. If not for the severity of the situations, Dean might have made a joke about the men dressed in ancient roman battle garbs. There was no denying the power that radiated from the group. They were Angels. The hunters fell into a hushed silence while Castiel nodded at the Angels.

As if acting on a soundless order, the Angels parted and stepped aside so that a tall figure could emerge. Dean felt the air in his lungs dissolve. A blonde haired teenager dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt, swaggered towards the hunters confidently. He could have easily passed for a typical sixteen year old, yet it was the deep green eyes that radiated wisdom that set him apart from any human teenager. Reaching the wary hunters, he smiled in greeting, reminding Dean painfully of Jo's trademark smirk.

As if hearing his thoughts, the smile on the teenagers face widened. Dean began to tremble. "Anthony?" he gasped, staring at his son with a mixture of awe and horror.

"Hey, dad."

***

Ernie and Louie disposed of their silver radiation suits quickly, and tossed their disguise in the back of Bobby's truck. They were relieved when a TV journalist took no notice of them as she and her crew attempted to sneak past the guards minding the barricades.

"You ready?" Louie asked, turning to his companion. They watched the journalist make a break for a gap at the side of the barrier. "It looks like now is our only shot."

Ernie nodded, stuffing his cigarettes in his pocket. They paused by the edge of the truck until the guards spotted the TV crew, and took off after them.

"Go!"

The two men sprinted towards the unmanned barricade, heading off in the opposite direction as the TV crew. Bashing their way through the thick scrub, the hunters were quick to race down the steps, and slide down the hill before anyone noticed them.

"What the fuck?" Ernie quickly reached out, and snagged Louie by the belt before his friend could go over the side of the cliff. He frowned. A thick syrupy grey fog had now settled in the valley, blocking all view of the crater and the hill beneath it from them.

"I'd bet my life that the fog aint natural." Louie remarked, pulling himself back up on to the edge of the cliff. He picked up a rock, and hurled it into the fog below. It sailed through silently, and disappeared the minute it entered the cloud.

"Is there another way down?"

"Nope."

"Well I guess we're going in blind then."

Louie grinned. "Well after you, Sir."

"Figures you'd make me go first," Ernie growled, and punched his friend in the shoulder. "Fine, you big old scaredy cat. I'll go first. Do you want me to hold you're hand too?"

"I was just being polite."

"My butt hole you were." Ernie turned, and slowly inched his way down the hill, and into the mysterious fog.

***

"But you're dead," Dean wheezed with disbelief.

Anthony shook his head, a smile still lingering on his face. "Yeah, but I'm feeling much better now." He reached out to pull Dean into a hug, but the suspicious Winchester baulked, and stepped backwards. Instead of being offended, Anthony's grin grew wider. "Too soon? No problems – there'll be time for pleasantries later."

Dean continued to stare in disbelief as the teenager turned to greet the others. Clapping his hands together, Anthony surveyed them all with a look of delight. Sam shook his head in astonishment, so may of the teenagers mannerism were frighteningly similar to his brothers, but he also held a perfect blend of Jo's determination and enthusiasm.

Sam glanced around. Where was Jo in all this? Sam never got the chance to ask, because there was a sudden a clap of thunder, and the ground around them suddenly started to quake. The group of hunters looked above them, and saw that a dense cloud had settled at the top of the ridge, successfully blocking the sky.

The atmosphere changed, and everything around them turned a dark grey.

"Quickly!" Anthony barked and waved them towards the edge of the crater. A burst of steam erupted behind Ellen reeking of sulphur. Bobby quickly yanked her forwards, and the group broke out into a sprint.

Stumbling and narrowly avoiding the rain of rocks skipping off the side of the cliffs, the group of hunters and Angels slid to a stop at the tip of the crater. To their horror, the crater was filled with over fifty black-eyed demons. Their faces turned towards the group expectantly, smug smiles burning brightly. In the middle of the demons, Sam instantly recognised the energy and raw power emanating from a brown-headed male wearing a ravenous look on his face. He shuddered, fear gripping his legs.

"Well, well. It's about time you Winchesters showed up," Lucifer crowed. A few demons snickered. "I was getting worried."

"Lucifer this is the one and only chance I'll give you to return to perdition and remain there for all existence," Anthony boomed, and Sam found himself astounded by the power and authority that rung through the teenagers' voice. "The same goes for the rest of you."

Lucifer snorted. "And who's going to make us?"

"We are."

A cold breeze tickled Sam's neck, and he instinctively turned around. He gasped. From what he could tell, a hundred or more warrior Angels flanked the edge of the crater, a mix of nervous looking hunters standing in the middle of the army.

Lucifer laughed, while the demons surrounding him traded anxious glances with one another. No doubt they had not been briefed about the Angels participation. Sam felt hope spawn inside his lungs. He glanced over at his brother, but Dean only had eyes for Lucifer. His knuckles were white from gripping the colt so tightly.

"Kill them all!" Lucifer ordered, and the demons sprung. Raising their gleaming silver swords in unison, the Angels prepared themselves for impact. Ellen, Bobby and Rufus cocked their guns, and Sam pulled the demon knife from his pocket.

The first of the demons approached the edge of the crater, but before they could reach the top, Anthony bent down, and imbedded his fist into the blackened earth. Out of the corner of his eye, Sam watched in fascination as a stream of water surged up into the sky like fountain. Anthony whispered something in the water, and with a slight movement of his hand, the water's direction turned to spew into the crater.

The second the water reached the unsuspecting demons, they howled in agony. Madly scrambling over one another to escape the downpour, the first wave of stumbling demons were picked off easily but the hunter's riffles. "First wave!" Anthony shouted, and the first line of Angels charged down into the crater.

A cry sounded to his left. Sam spun around to see Ellen being tackled by a demon. Before he could help her, Rufus fired on the demon, and yanked Ellen free. More gunfire whizzed past his head and he turned to see Bobby fire on a demon that had reached out for him. Bobby charged forward, kicking the demon backwards, and watched it roll down into the water. Black smoke erupted from inside the body the demon was possessing, and the once possessed man slumped on the ground unconscious.

"Second wave!"

Sam was jostled forward by the incoming second wave of Angels, and barely had a chance to defend himself from a demon's incoming fist. He raised the knife and plunged it into the demon's neck. The demon glowed orange before slumping to the ground dead.

"Sam!"

He heard his brother holler, and turned around in time to see two demons tackle Dean. Sam lunged towards his brother. He caught a glimpse of a demon raising his knife, his intention to behead Dean. Sam felt his lungs contract, and his legs seized as he clumsily tripped over a fallen hunter. "No…Dean!" He saw the panic in his brother's eyes as he tried to buck and jerk away from the demon restraining him. The demon with the knife screamed in victory, and drove the knife towards Dean.

The demon suddenly vanished.

A flash of blonde hair and the back of a riffle, and the demon slumped to the ground. The demon restraining Dean let go of him, and dove for Dean's rescuer, but he was too slow. Jo turned in time to drive one the angel's swords through the Demon's stomach.

"Jo, look out!" Bobby's warning was lost when Lucifer suddenly took Jo by the neck.

"Noooo!" Dean screamed, and threw himself bodily at Lucifer. The struggling pair disappeared in a blink, and Dean sailed through the air. Sam sprinted over to his brother, stopping only to fend off another Demon that attempted to advance on Dean. The air was full of screams and muffled commands. Sam could barely see past all the limbs and flying weapons.

"Sam!" Locating his brother, Sam finally reached Dean, and dragged him to his feet. There was a deep bloody gash above his brother's left eye. "He took her, Sam!" Dean shouted panicked. "He took her!"

Sam quickly searched the mayhem for the blonde. "Over there!" Sam pointed to the middle of the crater, and the two brothers pushed, and fought their way to the middle of the crater. Lucifer had both hands around Jo's neck, and was shouting something at her.

Dean and Sam were quick to duck pass a couple of demons attempting to bloodily claw at them, and on their way Dean scooped up a long sword that one of the wounded Angels had dropped.

Sensing Dean's approach, Lucifer whirled around, and held Jo in front of him like a shield. "Not so fast, Deano!"

The brother's separated. Dean made his way towards Lucifer, while Sam was quick to use the crowd as a diversion, and made his way behind Lucifer. Jo dangled from Lucifer's hand, her eyes wide and pleading. "Dean just kill him," Jo gagged out. "End it!"

Blood pumping, Sam raised his knife, and made for Lucifer head… when out of nowhere a demon snatched his legs out from under him, and dragged him bodily away.

Sam rolled over, and jammed the demon knife into the demons face, and twisted out of his grip. Crawling to his feet, he caught a glimpse of Lucifer, and saw Anthony raise a thin iron pole. In the blink of an eye, the teenager speared Lucifer's heart. Lucifer cried out in agony, releasing Jo begrudgingly, and slumped to his knees.

Jo crawled her way to Dean's waiting arms, gagging and gasping for breath while he helped her to her feet. The fighting around them abruptly came to halt as everyone stopped to stare at the fallen Angel. Bent in half, Lucifer's body appeared to shake.

Sam cast a nervous glance over at Dean. His brother held Jo close, his arms wrapped around her while his eyes remained focused on Lucifer. Everyone waited.

It was Anthony who made the next move. The teenager strode purposely towards Lucifer, his clothes stained with the evidence of victory.

"Nice try!" Lucifer gasped, and slowly climbed to his shaking feet. He grasped hold of the iron rod, and slowly withdrew it from his chest. He dropped the bloody pole to the ground with a clang. "But you forgot one thing. Iron can't kill me. I'm not a regular demon."

Dean frowned, and he lifted the Angel sword from the ground. He moved a shaking Jo to stand behind him. Sam clutched his own knife, and prepared to advance, when Anthony shook his head. "I'm not here to kill you, Lucifer."

"Liar!" Lucifer spat facing Anthony, his face twisted with malicious hatred.

"I'm here to forgive you."

"No," Lucifer growled, and took a step backwards. He snarled when Anthony took a carefully measured step towards him. "You don't speak for _Him,_" Lucifer argued.

Unaffected, Anthony continued to advance on the shaking Angel. "He understands, Lucifer. You're hurt, you want it to be over, you feel so alone and so tired from all the hatred."

Lucifer stepped sideways to avoid Anthony, his feet clumsily stumbling over a body, and he pathetically fell backwards. Anthony continued to approach him, his face full of empathy, his palms open wide. "No." Lucifer struggled to stand, and Sam was stunned by the desperation in the fallen Angel's voice. "I'll kill you all if you try."

"Luc-"

"Get back!" Lucifer shouted, and made to lunge at Anthony, but there seemed to be some sort of invisible chains fastening Lucifer to the ground. He looked up at Anthony, black tears streaming down his face. "This isn't over!"

"Castiel," Anthony summoned, his eyes still trained on Lucifer.

Castiel materialized beside Anthony. Head bent, he reached into his trench coat, and retrieved a small vial from his pocket. He handed it to Anthony before making his way behind Lucifer.

Lucifer snarled, and bucked violently against his invisible restraint. Unhindered, Castiel simply carried on walking around him until he stopped directly behind Lucifer's body. Sam threaded his way through the crowd until he was standing beside Dean. They exchanged a bewildered look.

Castiel reached out and told hold of Lucifer's head. "Calm yourself, Lucifer." Anthony spoke in a deep voice, and stepped up to Lucifer. He kneeled before the struggling Angel, and very gently unscrewed the lid on the vial. Sam watched with the hushed crowd as Anthony poured the liquid into his palm, and tipped his fingers into the oil.

He paused and glanced at the surrounding crowd. Sam realized with a snort that half of the demons had fled. The remaining ones where pushed backwards until a tight circle of Angels had surrounded Anthony, Castiel and Lucifer protectively.

Lucifer began to search the crowd with panic and he howled when no demon attempted to come to his aid. He furiously pushed, and shoved against the chains, but Castiel held his face very still. Anthony made the sign of the cross over Lucifer's screaming face, and drew a small cross in oil across Lucifer's forehead, his chin and his chest.

Body shaking, Lucifer suddenly went rigid. Thunder crackled overhead. Anthony placed a kiss to Lucifer's temple. When he spoke, his voice was deep and full of authority. "Our father has forgiven you Lucifer. Be at peace now. You're soul is clean."

An artic cold wind stirred from beneath Lucifer, and Castiel released his head. Lucifer back on to the ground, his body limp. Jo gasped from beside Dean. The freezing cold air around them elicited goose bumps from Sam bare arms, and he glanced around the crater. Dirt, Ash and water were captured in a sudden fierce gust of wind, and Sam was forced to close his eyes, and shield his face from the debris.

An intense, sharp ringing filled his ears. Sam felt the ground beneath his feet start to tremble. The wind gathered in intensity, and Sam felt Dean's hand grip his shoulder. He couldn't make out what Dean was shouting, but his brother's grip pulled him closer. Jo's fingers found his, and Dean pulled them down to the ground.

Just when Sam thought the wind was going to uproot them and toss them about, the sound evaporated and the wind disappeared. Blinking dirt from his eyes, Sam cracked his eyes open, and squinted at their surroundings. The Angels and the demons had disappeared bar Castiel and Anthony. The thick fog like clouds had disappeared and the sun shone down on them once more.

Sam pulled Dean and Jo to their feet, and they greeted what little remaining hunters there were with confused expressions. "What happened?" Sam asked turning around. He spied Ellen helping Bobby limp down the hill towards them.

"Where did he go?" Dean interrogated Castiel, searching the crater alarmed.

"Lucifer is no longer," Castiel answered, brushing dirt from his trench coat.

"He's dead?" Jo whispered, staring at Anthony in wonder. There were tears in her eyes.

Anthony smiled and shook his head. "Nah. Cause that'd go against everything He believes in."

Confused, Sam tilted his head. "Then what-"

"His soul is clean. Our Father forgave him." Castiel explained. "Lucifer has now been reborn as a human child."

"What?" Dean exploded. He broke away from Jo and rounded on Castiel. "The big guy just let him get off scott free? What were you thinking setting him free in the world again?" He shoved Castiel's shoulder roughly. "What kind of a stupid plan is that? He'll just bring hell on earth all over again! Everything we've done has been for nothing!"

Anthony was quick to come to Castiel's aid. "Dad, come on." He placed a hand on Dean's back in a soothing manner, but Dean shook it off. "Don't you think that Lucifer might find that a little hard now that he is mortal?"

Jo looked up astonished. "You turned him into the very thing he resents and hates." She reached out to Dean, and Sam caught the look of hurt that flashed across her face when he stepped away from her. "Lucifer is doomed to live and die like the rest of us now – he's human."

"Bingo, mom!" Anthony congratulated, grinning with amusement. He yawned and stretched his arms over his head. "I'm starving," he announced. "Cas do we have time to grab a burger before we head off?"

"Stop!"

"What's wrong, dad?"

"That – you… you were dead… are dead… you acting so cool and casual is what is wrong!" Dean raged and he began to pace. Sam bit his lip. Now that the heat and adrenaline from the battle had worn off, it seemed like the last couple of months had finally caught up with his brother. Sam couldn't blame Dean for looking so confused and angry. "You can't all honestly expect me to just go skipping off into the sunset now that Lucifer is gone, and that it's all over."

"I never said it was over," Anthony replied seriously. "Lucifer is gone yes, but evil still exists and your roles as hunters has not expired. Lucifer left the back door open when he busted out and now the door is shut, but there is still a lot of cleaning up to do." He lowered his eyes guilty. "It's now also my job to protect people. I hope you understand me when I say I can never return to what I was."

Jo and Dean's mouths open simultaneously, but before they could question Anthony further they heard shouting from the top of the crater.

"Hey! Did we miss the party?"

Sam recognized the two guys he'd seen earlier in radiation suits starting to make their way down the hill. One of them was smoking. Rufus groaned, and limped off to go and explain to the two hunters what they had missed.

Sam turned back to Anthony, and noticed his brother was missing. "Dean!" Jo ran after him, and Sam went to follow when Bobby reached out to hold him back.

"No, Sam." Bobby warned. "They have to sort this out for themselves." Sam nodded, but couldn't help but feel like leaving them alone to fight was only going to make things worse.


	23. Chapter 23

**Rating: **M

**Disclaimer: **Lyrics from the song 'The guy that says goodbye to you is out of his mind' by Griffith house, 'Set fire to the third bar' by Snow Patrol and 'Little Lion Man' by Mumford & Sons are used with out permission and no copyright is intended.

**Authors Note: **I'm back! I'm not dead for all those of you that asked! :D This will be the second last chapter in this story and I admit I'll be sad to see it finish, but i'll be happy to move onto something new. Thank you to Corina for all your help and thank you to each and everyone of you guys for your support, understanding and comments. It's much appreciated. Enjoy!

* * *

'**Bleed It Out'**

"Dean! Will you just wait one second?!?"

He ignored her. He didn't want to hear it. He didn't want to hear anything, least of all what she had to say to him. Dean kept his head down, and focused his eyes on the ground in front of him. With long powerful strides, he navigated his way towards the edge of the crater.

The incline looked unstable after the water damaged, but the threat of tumbling head over ass backwards down the hill did little to stall him. He heard Jo call out for him to wait for her. Spurred into action, Dean began to scramble up the hill. It was hard going after a couple of mammoth steps, and by the time he threw his body over the edge of the incline, he was out of breath. Dragging himself to his feet, he grunted and shook his feet to dislodge some of the dirt from his shoes.

"Dammit, Dean! Stop!"

She was determined - he'd give her that. But what he wouldn't give her was any acknowledgement. He couldn't; for fear that when he turned around and looked at her, he would only see the image of her being strangled by Lucifer. His heart gave a pathetic squeeze in reaction to the memory. In that second he had known.

Dean realized in between her gasp of surprise, Lucifers gleeful cackle, and the warning cry from Sam, that despite everything that had happened between himself and Jo, he couldn't bare to see anything happen to her; and that terrified and infuriated him at the same time.

The revelation terrified him because despite her betrayal, he still cared about her deeply and it infuriated him for the very same reason. Dean scowled when he heard her laboured breathing as she reached the top of the incline. He quickly resumed walking, making sure to keep his back to her.

The sun beat down on his face, and he raised his forearm to remove the sweat from his brow. He wanted nothing more than to strip off the stiff and itchy monkey suit, and loose himself in an ice cold shower. He wondered how mad his brother would be if he left him behind with Bobby. There was no threat now that his brother didn't have to live with the fear of being caught by surprise by an overzealous demon. It was almost with shaky relief that Dean realised that for once he could concentrate on himself.

It was over. All of it. The devil's 'big' plan, Heaven's interference, the prophecy. It was done. Dusted. Buried.

"So this is how it ends?" she shouted after him, catching him off guard for a second. He paused, long enough to hear her footsteps approaching him. "Is this how you want to leave things?"

Growling, Dean bit back a retort and started walking again. He heard her click her tongue as she disapproved of his reaction, and he forced himself to squeeze his eyes shut tightly.

When she finally spoke he had to will himself not to react to the pain and anger in her voice. Jo wasn't the only one who was hurt - but she had started this. She was the one who forced him to care about her, she was the one who'd tricked him into letting her inside – she was the one who had destroyed him.

"I wont chase after you again, Dean. There's no going back from this." Her threat reverberated against the dirt and the ashes. He kept moving; the hill that led back to the cars and the authorities was now in sight. When he reached the crumbled mansion he fooled himself into thinking he was checking for his brother when he looked over his shoulder.

Her sudden disappearance stung like a slap across his face. Clearly her threat had been serious. She wasn't going to chase him. She wasn't going to beg him to forgive her – which in Dean's head, meant that she wasn't really sorry for what she had done.

Dean began to climb the unstable slope with rage trembling in his chest. _'Good'_, he mused with a furious stamp of his foot. _'I don't want to see her ever again anyway. She was nothing more than a mistake - one I wont ever make again.' _

After all, he _was_ Dean Winchester, and he didn't need _anybody_.

***

Anthony took a step backwards, and allowed the girl that had until recently been possessed by a demon, to fall back onto the bed. Having expelled the demon successfully he graced the girl with an assuring smile, and the girl promptly passed out with exhaustion and relief. With a satisfied smirk, he readjusted the collar of his leather jacket, and swaggered towards the bedroom door.

An elderly priest, still crouched beside the door with his weathered mouth agape, watched him leave with startled eyes. Anthony yanked open the door to greet the petrified parents in the hallway. "You're daughter is going to be fine now," he told the weeping mother clutching her husband. He jerked a thumb towards the bedroom. "Though you may want to avoid feeding her solids for a few days, the demon did a serious number on her throat on it's way out."

"H-how..?" The father held his wife tightly, his face alight with amazement.

"Long story," Anthony remarked with a friendly grin. He motioned outside. "Hey, do you know any good burger places 'round here?"

"Anthony." Castiel materialised at the top of the staircase. Anthony rolled his eyes. He knew from the now familiar disapproving and exasperated sigh that Castiel was about to lecture him with his 'inappropriate humour in stressful situations' spiel.

"Fine," he grumbled with submission. Anthony placed a soothing hand on the fathers' nervous shoulders. "God is watching over your daughter. She is safe now. Go see for yourselves."

"Bless you," The mother sobbed, and threw her arms around him. Anthony grimaced, but patted the woman's shaking shoulders. She tore away from him quickly, and ran into the bedroom. The father followed after a small bow of thanks at the Angels.

Before Castiel could comment, Anthony closed his eyes, and vanished into thin air. A second later he arrived preciously where he meant to, though he stumbled slightly towards the end of his travels. He was still getting used to travelling so quickly despite having already mastered the basics after a couple of days.

"You lack tact, Anthony. Something I'm sure you inherited from your father."

Anthony shrugged, though a smile threatened to erupt across his face. He quickly crossed the parking lot and headed inside of the popular burger chain, Castiel trailing behind him silently. Once he had joined the que, he turned to Castiel with a cocky smile. "You say that like it's a bad thing, Cas." Anthony pointed to the brightly lit menu boards. "Hey, do you want anything?"

Castiel declined, glancing around at the other customers with an increasingly disapproving grimace on his face. "You are wasting time. We should have departed for Monte Carlo once you finished your exorcism. There are numerous tasks to complete before the day is at its end."

"But I'm starving," Anthony protested with a grin, and placed his order with the brunette teenager who brightened immediately upon seeing the young Angel. He winked at the girl with the name tag labelled Tanya, and paid her with crisp dollar bills from his back pocket. Castiel watched the transaction with a huff, and waited until the girl had left to fetch the order before lecturing Anthony.

"Angels do not suffer an appetite, Anthony. We eat only when our vessels are in desperate need. We can go months without nourishment. Any unnecessary meals are purely indulgent."

"Well who says I'm not in desperate need?"

"You ate only two hours ago."

"Well popping demons out is hungry work." The lanky teenage boy waiting for the fries to finish cooking, turned around to gaze at them curiously. Anthony sent him an assuring smirk and the boy flushed red and quickly returned his attention to the deep fryer. Anthony shook his head. "Are you sure you don't want a thick shake, Cas? The strawberry ones are really good."

"Will you concentrate on the tasks I've had set you today if I do so?" Castiel countered with an exaggerated sigh.

Anthony thought it over for a second, before nodding enthusiastically. "Deal."

"Than I will drink your milky beverage."

Rolling his eyes, Anthony called out to the girl who had served him. "You could have just said, 'Yup' Cas. You don't need to be so formal all the time." The girl returned with their order. "Sorry, can I add a strawberry thick shake to my order?"

"Sure." She started to type away at her register. "Medium or Super size?"

Anthony glanced at the Angel standing beside him and smirked. "Better give the big guy the super size – we've got a long trip ahead of us." He waggled his eyebrows and the girl giggled before flouncing off to finish his order.

Castiel cleared his throat. "Perhaps in your case Anthony, a little formality might be a good training exercise for you."

The girl returned with the drink, and added it to their tray. When Anthony extended his hand to pay extra she waved her hand and grinned toothily. "No charge." Her smile turned coy. "Enjoy."

"Thanks, beautiful." Anthony quipped, flashing her with a dazzling smile. He grabbed his tray, and guided Castiel outside while the girl stared after him dreamily. "I think I'm doing just fine without excessive training, dontcha think, Cas?"

"Definitely inherited your attitude from your father," Castiel muttered under his breath.

"What?" Anthony asked, dropping his tray on the table.

"What?" Castiel repeated, taking an unnatural interest in his thick shake. Anthony rolled his eyes and began working on his meal.

***

"_I've been lost and I need direction, I could use a little love-protection, What do you say, honey, come to my defence? I'll stand up for if it's what you need and I can take a punch, I don't mind to bleed, As long as afterward you feel bad for me."_

Jo turned the hot water tap off and dipped her hands into the sudsy water in search of the scrubbing brush. With the radio playing softly in the background, she let her thoughts wander away from their normally tight confines.

"_Relationships, I don't know why, they never work out and they make you cry, but the guy that says goodbye to you is out of his mind."_

Reaching over to snap the radio off in disgust, Jo returned to the dishes in the sink, and resumed scrubbing the trays that had been too big for the dishwasher. A quick glance out of the roadhouse kitchen window in front of her revealed that Bobby and her mom were still in the middle of a heated conversation. One that had been going on for over an hour.

She shifted her attention to the dishes, trying to give her mom some privacy, but was curious as to what was being said. Luckily she didn't have wait long before Louie trudged into the kitchen with two large bags of pretzels.

"Hey doll, where does your mom normally keeps these bags?"

Drying her hands on her jeans, Jo began to make room on the cooking island. "Just leave 'em here, and I'll put 'em away in a second."

Louie did as instructed, and when he was done he trudged over to the fridge to fetch a soda. "Looks like your mom is really giving it to Bobby outside."

"Oh yeah?" Jo replied, feigning disinterest. She returned to the sink, her eyes darting up briefly to spy Bobby gripping her mom by the shoulders. Jo's eyes narrowed, wondering if she should intervene when her mom slapped Bobby across the face.

"Ouch." Louie hissed picking up a drying towel and moving to her side to dry the trays. "That's gonna sting."

"Could have been worse, she could have kneed him like she did to my dad one time."

Louie chuckled. "I heard about that," he nudged her with his elbow. "So I guess it's no surprise where you get your temper from?"

Jo smiled, and resumed scrubbing with all her might until some of the dirty water slopped over the sink and onto her shirt. She sighed and took a step back from the sink. "I don't know what you're talking about Louie," she denied, mopping up some of the spilt water.

"Sure you don't," Louie agreed, putting one of the trays away. "Just like you don't want to know that the Winchesters were last spotted dealing with a very mischievous poltergeist only two towns away from here?"

"Mmm." Jo responded, her scrubbing pressure increasingly significantly. "A mischievous poltergeist? Imagine that."

"Too soon, doll?"

Releasing an exasperated puff of air, Jo dropped the scrubbing brush into the water. "No. It's fine." She glanced down at her dishwater soaked shirt. "I'm just going to let the tray soak for a while – it's really stuck on there." Before Louie could apologise, Jo bustled out of the kitchen and made her way to the back of the roadhouse so she could head upstairs to her room.

Louie frowned. Glancing outside he watched Ellen stalk away from a frustrated looking Bobby. "Like Mother, like daughter." He picked up the tray Jo had abandoned in the sink.

It was sparkling clean.

***

"_Weep for yourself, my man, you'll never be what is in your heart. Weep little lion man, you're not as brave as you were at the start."_

"What do you think, Dean?"

"_Rate yourself and rape yourself, take all the courage you have left, wasted on fixing all the problems that you made in your own head."_

"Earth to Dean!"

"_Bit it was not your fault but mine, and it was your heart on the line, I really fucked it up this time, didn't I, my dear?"_

Sam raised his eyebrows as Dean suddenly came to life and switched the radio off with a snarl. He waited for an explanation for his sudden outburst, but no explanation came. "Dean?" he prompted, waiting for some kind of an acknowledgement from his brother.

"What?" Dean grunted, winding the window down and resting his elbow on the door. Sam pulled his jacket tighter – the gust pouring inside the Impala was icy.

"Do you want to go?"

"Huh?" Dean turned towards him, his eyes narrowing slightly when he realised Sam was shivering. "What's wrong with you?"

"It's like minus twenty degrees, Dean. I'm freezing my ass off."

"You big pussy."

"Pussy? Dude there is practically _snow _on the road." Sam lifted his phone to show him the digital screen that read the temperature. "We're in the middle of a cold snap and you're acting like its summer." He studied Dean's features, frowning when he noticed the beads of sweat clinging to his forehead. "Dean, I don't care what you say, I think you're coming down with something."

"Shut up, I'm fine., Dean argued, and used his forearm to wipe his brow clean. "I _never_ get sick."

"Maybe we should just stay another night in this town? You know, it's not like we're in a rush- "

"I'm fine, dammit!" Dean wound the window up angrily as if to prove his point. "I just wanted some fresh air, so untie your boxers Samantha."

"Dean-"

"Oh for fucks sake - what now?"

Flashing orange lights up ahead forced Dean to slow down. By the time they reached the lights they realised that a large bur oak tree was blocking their exit from town. A police officer rapped on the window.

"Sorry fellas, roads' closed."

"Is there another way out of town?" Dean asked, glaring at the tree.

The officer shook his head apologetically. "Sorry, you're going to have to bunk down tonight. Roads should be open by early morning unless we have any more dramas."

"Typical," Dean muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" The officer inquired, his friendly weathered face suddenly hardening as he took in Dean's tense body language and angry expression. He regarded the brothers in the car suspiciously. "Where are you two fellas off to in such a hurry?"

"Anywhere but here," Dean retorted with an aggravated squeeze of his hands against the steering wheel.

The officer looked unconvinced and pointed to the back of the Impala. "You wanna open your trunk, sir?"

"Sure, thing officer," Sam quickly interjected before his brother could open his mouth and bite off some scathing remark. He sent Dean a warning glare. Dean popped the trunk with a scowl, and waited while the officer searched the back of the car with his flashlight. "Dude, what is your problem?" Sam hissed, thumping his brothers arm.

"Me?" Dean responded gruffly. "I haven't got a problem."

"Than why are you acting like an ass? We're supposed to be flying under the radar and avoiding the local police. We don't need another curious FBI agent on our backs."

"I'm not-"

The officer returned several minutes later with a confused look on his face. He gave Dean a visual once over before tapping the roof of the car. "Why don't you two just make your way over to Jenny's Inn and call it a night? I've got enough work on tonight without having to do some extra paperwork in the morning if you catch my drift?"

Dean nodded, a fake smile plastered across his face. "We'll be good," he promised and started the car up. Reversing slowly, Dean turned the car around, and headed back to the inn. "Not one word, Sam. Not one."

Mumbling to himself, Sam reached over and switched the radio back on. Soft music flittered through the speakers and he lent back in his chair. Out of the corner of his eye he watched Dean's eyes narrow and cheeks puff out in frustration as the song reached its chorus.

"_I'm miles from where you are, I lay down on the cold ground, And I, I pray that something picks me up, and sets me down in your warm arms."_

***

"What are you doing?"

Anthony spun around too quickly to greet Castiel, and promptly stumbled over his own feet. Embarrassed, he righted himself and was careful to avoid the older Angels eyes. "Hey, Cas. What are you doing here?"

"I came to ask you the same thing," the Angel replied with a stern look hardening his features. "You're supposed to be on prayer watch."

"I am. I _was_. I'm just-"

"Spying on your parents?" Castiel offered, looking down unimpressed at the scenes before him. He could clearly make out Dean storming out of a motel, and climbing into his car. Frowning, Castiel waved his hand in a sweeping motion, and the transparent wall that allowed Angels to keep watch over selected areas of earth, returned to it's original smooth marble wall.

Anthony sighed, and scuffed his feet against one of the marble pillars. "I'm sorry ok. What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to say that you will stop wasting unnecessary time spying on Dean and Joanna. This is not your job, there are other duties that you must attend to."

"But-"

"No buts," Castiel insisted. "We have been through this several times. These are the rules, they are put in place for a reason, and despite your unusual circumstances of conception _you_ are not above them."

"I didn't say I was!" Anthony argued defensively. He pointed to the blank wall. "They are miserable, Cas and it's _my_ fault. I can't just go about saving everyone else knowing that the two people I love need my help."

"Both of them are in adequate health and are in no danger. Dean's symptoms are merely a result of his mental wellbeing."

"There's nothing _well _about his being," Anthony muttered shoving his fists down deep in his pockets.

Castiel fought a grin, and attempted to serve Anthony with a firm look of disapproval. "Be that as it may-"

"I just want them to be happy."

"You can not manipulate them into being happy Anthony." At the younger Angels' surprised expression, Castiel nodded. "Yes, I noticed your subtle attempts to manipulate their emotions with the radio devices, and I am not the only one who has noticed either."

Anthony scowled, scuffing his sneaker on the pillar again and looking sulky. "Fine. Whatever. I'll just ignore them and let them die alone and miserable even if _they_ saved the ungrateful world and all."

Castiel released an irritable sigh, and pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose in the same fashion he had scene Bobby Singer do many time when he was frustrated. "Anthony-"

"No, it's fine, okay," the teenager snapped, and turned on his heel. "I'll get back to _my duties_."

Before Castiel could reply, the teenager vanished, leaving Castiel to considering his sour words. Lifting his hand, he returned the wall back to scene Anthony had been watching. Dean Winchester drove through the night, his expression dark and foreboding. Castiel turned away from the wall, his mind working furiously. He waved his hand again and the marble wall returned to its blank status. A second later, Castiel too had vanished.

***

"_I'm miles from where you are, I lay down on the cold ground, And I, I pray that something picks me up, and sets me down in your warm arms."_

Jo exited the steam-smothered bathroom only to be met with a blast of music. Covering her ears with her hands, she started to make her way down the hallway when the music abruptly stopped.

Ernie's voice reverberated against the walls as he hollered at Louie to stop fiddling with the jukebox. "… nearly blew my freaking eardrums to pieces, you idiot!"

Shaking her head, Jo entered her bedroom, and shut the door behind her quietly. It was late. Draping her damp towel over her desk chair, she quickly dressed for bed. After combing the knots out of her wet tangled hair, she plucked her moisturizer bottle from her bedside table, and was about to sit down on the bed when she heard a flutter of wings.

Turning her head, Jo was surprised to see Castiel standing by the window. "Joanna," he greeted with a short nod of his head.

Dread filled her heart. "Castiel, what are you going here?" Her heart immediately began to beat a little harder as she instantly feared that the nightmares that had plagued her dreams for weeks were finally coming true. "What's happened? Is Lucifer back? Is the world about to end again?"

Holding his hands up to stop the barrage of questions, he tried to assure her with a forced smile. "Everything is alright, Joanna. You are safe. I did not come here to forewarn you."

Realising her breath slowly, she sunk down on her bed while shaking her head. "Jeez, Cas. I thought-"

There was a dip in the mattress, and Jo was surprised when Castiel seated himself directly opposite her. "You have not been hunting." It wasn't a question, merely an observation, but Jo found herself nodding regardless. "Anthony is concerned."

Jo looked up in surprise. "Anthony?"

"Yes," Castiel nodded. "He has been observing the two of you when he is supposed to be on duty." Jo noted that while the Angels face showed disappointment in her son's actions, Castiel's tone spoke of Anthony with fondness. Through the pain in her heart, Jo observed the difference in Castiel's mannerisms. He appeared almost… at ease.

"Can I see him?"

Castiel suddenly stood up from the bed. "I am afraid not." Jo frowned and tried to blink back the tears threatening to leak from her eyes. She had known what his answer would be from the moment she opened her mouth, but the truth stung regardless.

Before the battle in LA, Anthony had appeared to her in her truck, and had explained that their contact would be limited, and that once the battle was over he would not be able to interact until her time on earth was over. Before she could object, he thanked her for having the strength and courage to make the sacrifice and begged her to make peace with her choices.

"Is he happy?" Jo asked in a small voice, staring at her fingers clutching the moisturizer bottle.

Castiel's hand entered her vision, and he placed his large cool palm over her fingers. "Are you?"

Jo shook her head, the tears slipping down her cheeks. "I don't know how to be any more, Cas. Too much has changed." She lifted her head so that she could search his face for answers. "I feel so lost." She confided, the tears increasing in acknowledgment to the truth she had been trying to deny for weeks. "I – I don't know what to do anymore."

"He feels the same."

Frowning, Jo swiped some of the tears from her eyes so that she could study the Angel. "Anthony?"

Raising an eyebrow, Castiel regarded her with a sceptical look. "I was referring to Dean."

Turning away sharply, Jo snatched a tissue from the tissue box on her bedside table and began to clean her face. "You're wrong, Castiel." She blew her nose. "Tell Anthony that I'm fine, that I just need some time to figure things out."

"After everything that you have experienced… what is there left to fear?"

"Time." Jo replied, rising from her bed and moving to pull the blinds free from their bindings. "I fear time." The room plunged into darkness. "I don't envy your immortality for a second, Cas. Tomorrow is long enough."

***

"Hey there, sugar. Why are you sittin' here all alone for?"

Dean warily raised his eyes to glance at the slim brunette tottering towards him in six inch heels. He shrugged her presence off with an uninterested look and returned to pushing the ice cubs around his glass with a mangled straw. "No thanks."

"No thanks?" The woman laughed, her hand finding it's way to his lap. "Come on, sugar – surely life isn't all that bad?" The smell of liquor invaded his nostrils as she leaned forward to whisper in his ear. "I promise I have ways of making all your troubles disappear."

"I'm waiting for someone," he grunted, shoving her hand off his lap. He flicked the straw away and downed his whiskey while motioning to the bar keeper to pour him another.

The brunette pestering him leant against the bar, her smile red and seductive. "You've been waiting for the last four hours. Something tells me they stood you up."

"Listen sweetheart, no offence-" he started and paid the barkeeper. "I'm sure you're a real fox between the sheets, but I'm just not in the mood."

She pouted, but did not seem at all discouraged by his rejection. "Is there something I can do to put you in the mood?"

"Do you have the power to turn back time?"

"Huh?"

Dean waved her off, and downed his drink. Once the amber liquid had been drained, he picked up his jacket from the seat beside him. "Forget it, it wouldn't change anything anyway." He breezed past the bewildered woman, and strode out of the bar.

More rain had fallen while he had taken up residence in the bar, and the fact that he didn't feel any of the oppressive cold blasting against his face was a clear indication he had consumed too much alcohol. He considered walking back to the hotel for a split second, before deciding to take his chances in the Impala. A warning light went off at the back of his head, but he ignored it and made his way around the swimming pool sized puddles surrounding the Impala.

"Dammit!" His keys attempted to put up a fight as he jammed them clumsily into the lock, but a few jiggles of his wrist later and the door creaked open stubbornly. Dean slid inside the car, coughing loudly and sniffing miserably while starting the car up.

After a few seconds of staring tiredly at the rear vision mirror he realised he wasn't alone. "Cas." He didn't bother looking at the Angel sitting beside him. "Is it the end of the world again already?"

"Why do you assume my appearances means anarchy?"

Dean turned the car off and leant back in his seat with a groan. "Because usually your visits are followed with life or death battles, end of the world prophesises, and oh yeah – being brought back from the dead."

"You are not yourself."

Dean frowned, and dragged a rain-dampened leather sleeve across his runny nose. He sniffed, and the taste of mucus temporarily replaced the stale tang of whiskey. "What do you want Cas?"

"Your son is worried."

"My son?" Dean snapped, finally looking at the trench coat clad Angel. "You mean the one you're keeping from me? The one you refuse to tell me where he is or how I can reach him?"

Castiel briefly wore a look of surprise, before replacing it with a calm indifference. "I have already explained-"

"You explained jack shit." Dean snarled, and placed his hands on the steering wheel. "Get out of my car."

"Why haven't you spoken to Joanna yet?"

"Castiel, I'm warning you – I still have one of those angel swords in my trunk."

"I believe I have 'struck a nerve'."

Dean glowered at the obtrusive Angel beside him. "I'm going to be the one striking some nerves in a minute." He flexed the muscles in his arms in a visual warning.

The Angel responded to his threat by tilting his head to the side curiously. "Why do you continue to punish her?"

"Cas-"

"She did the right thing. She saved the world, She-"

"ENOUGH!" Dean roared, his tone warning the Angel of impending violence. He closed his eyes, and after a few shaky breaths, Dean realised that Castiel had vanished. He swore, and punched the steering wheel before collapsing against the car seat.

Hot blood pounded against his temples, causing the already consistent headache spawning from the base of his neck to increase significantly. He closed his eyes momentarily, and waited for his heart rate to decrease.

Several minutes passed without consequence, and Dean began to relax. He opened his eyes again and stared out at the dark parking lot in front of him. "What am I doing?" he mused out loud. Before he could stop himself an image of Jo pushed its way to the front of his subconscious. He remembered the way her golden hair swept across the pillow, and how soft her skin felt the morning after they had slept together. The sound of her laughter echoed through his head, her smile piercing through the thick barricades he had erected around his heart. "No!" He slammed his hand down on the steering wheel, his face twisted into a determined scowl. He shoved the images to the back of his mind, and started the car with a snarl.

Tearing out of the parking lot he ignored the sudden blazing heat inside the car and concentrated instead on the road back to the motel. Distorted pieces of past conversations he'd had with Jo in the impala swept through his mind like wildfire, and it was an effort to remain detached. Finally he reached the sleepy motel, and pulled into the last available spot.

Grumbling under this breath, Dean marched towards the motel room with the intent to burn his fever off with an equally hot shower, when a familiar voice stopped him dead in his tracks.

"I still can't believe that you're here," Dean heard his brother gush happily to somebody inside their shared motel room. "I mean, I don't know how, or what-"

Dread filled Dean's stomach, stirring the whiskey in an unsettling fashion. He reached out with a hesitant hand to open the door.

"Dean's going to freak when he gets back."

"He's already here," the familiar voice retorted. "You going to come inside Dean, or are you gonna stand outside all night and freeze you chicken shit ass off?"

Dean took hold of the doorknob and pushed open the door. Shock etched itself across his face. With feet propped up on the coffee table and a beer in his hand, the owner of the achingly familiar voice sat on the couch and looked up at Dean with an expectant look.

"Well don't just stand there like an idiot son, shut the damn door – you're letting all the cold air in."

"Dad?"

***

Jo knew from the moment she opened her eyes that she was dreaming. She sat up in her bed, or what had once been her bed back in the roadhouse before it had burnt down. With curious eyes she took in the familiar old pink comforter draped over her legs, and the glow in the dark stars glittering on her old closet.

There was a rumble of what sounded like thunder in the distance and she pulled open her bedroom curtains. It was dark outside, but the stars shone clearly in the sky. Confused, Jo searched the backyard for what had caused the noise when her bedroom door swung open.

"Heads up, kid! There's a mother of a storm on its way."

"Ash?" Jo asked surprised, nearly tripping over her own feet in a haste to climb off the bed.

Ash grinned, and flicked his long dirty blonde hair over his shoulder. "Yeah? Who else?" Sending a smirk her way, he jerked his thumb towards the back of the roadhouse. "Well come on, sleepy Jean." He started to swagger off down the hallway. "Lets go check out the radar and see if we're gonna get any twisters out of it."

Jo paused for a second, wondering why on earth she dreaming about her thirteen year old self before hurrying after Ash. As she pattered through the empty bar, she sniffed and a strong surge of emotions swept over her as the comforting smell of beer and peanuts assaulted her nose. She grinned, marvelling at the details her brain had remembered about the old roadhouse, and quickly followed Ash to his room.

It looked exactly how she had last seen it, and for a second the sight of scattered posters, empty beer cans and plaid shirts on the floor made her heart lurch. Ash was already seated in front of his computer, surrounded by twisted and skeletal pieces of hardware – there had never been a doubt in Jo's mind that Ash was nothing short of a misunderstood genius. Reclining on the lumpy bed shoved up against the wall, she tried to keep her emotions in check as she watched Ash work with the grace of a concert pianist.

"You gonna stare at me all night or are you gonna ask me how I am?"

"Huh?" Jo stared at Ash bewildered.

Spinning around in his chair, he studied her with an intense look that left her breathless. Jo wondered for not the first time since she had met Ash if he could read her mind. "Come on, Jo. You never used to be this slow. I think having a kid has made you soft."

Jo opened her mouth to respond, but promptly shut it again. She shook her head. "Wow, my subconscious is working overtime here. For a minute there I thought-"

Ash leant back in his chair and shrugged. "You thought I had mastered the laws of physics and dragged myself back from the dead to come and invade your dreams?" He smirked. "That's pretty loco even for me."

"Yeah, crazy I know," Jo admitted with a small smile. "Besides if it were true, why'd you show up now?"

Ash shrugged and picked up a beer can from beside his computer and drained it. "Don't ask me, I'm just the bad ass figment of your twisted little imagination." He crunched the empty beer can and tossed it on the floor. "Ya think you & you're messed up self can conjure me up a six pack?"

Jo rolled her eyes and leant back against the wall again. "I guess you're right, I am a little messed up these days aren't I?"

Snorting Ash stood up from his chair and trudged over the bed. Throwing himself face down beside her, he rolled onto his back and crossed his hands behind his head. The smell of diesel, stale beer and sweat wafted past her nose, and she smiled to herself. "Don't sweat it, Jo. Who amongst us aren't freaks in the making?"

"Oh so now I'm a freak?" She teased shoving his hip with her heel. "Thanks a lot figment Ash. You know, you were more tactful in real life."

"No I wasn't."

"Yeah, no you weren't," Jo admitted with a small smile. "So, why do you think I dreamed you up?"

"Back to this again? You already know the answer to that." When Jo shook her head, he sighed and sat up. "I am a visual representation of you inner self. I'm the part of you that you seemed to have forgotten about or are deliberately ignoring and I'm here to do this." Before Jo had a chance to respond, Ash reached over and flicked her in the middle of her forehead.

"Owww!" Jo moaned, rubbing her forehead. "That hurt."

"Well stop being a bonehead and pull your shit together," Ash retorted with a grin.

"I'm trying."

"No your not," Ash argued and pulled himself backwards to lean against the wall beside her. "It's like this, Jo-Jo. After all the crazy shit that has happened it's understandable that you're feeling a little like Dorothy. But the dust has settled now and it's time to start living your life in Kansas again."

Jo raised her eyebrow and smirked. "Dorothy? That's the best analogy you can come up with?"

"What did want? Alice in Wonderland?"

"How about I died, was brought back from dead, chased by some demons, gave birth to Jesus.2, who became an Angel, who killed the devil and now I'm just supposed to go back to the beginning and pretend like it was all a dream?"

Ash shrugged, "Pretty much. Except you could think of it like you've got a second chance to do what you do best."

"Serve beer?" She grinned when Ash flicked her in the head again.

"Did you take a bottle of dumbass pills before bed?" Ash asked with an irritated expression. He scrubbed a scarred hand over his face before releasing a deep belch. "Maybe you've spent too much time with the Winchesters. I never used to have to spell things out for you."

Jo frowned and turned her face away from Ash. "I knew what you meant."

"Well then what's the problem?" Ash pleaded. "Jo you're a good hunter. You know that, _I _know that. Listen, call me crazy, but try and look at it all this way. You survived everything the supernatural world could throw at you. You've been dead, survived the demonic version of the amazing race, had a kid and fought along side freakin' Angels and you're _still_ alive." Ash draped his arm over her shoulder. "Don't worry about Dean, alright? Everyone from here to hell knows that dudes got some mother load issues - so don't take it personally. If he wants to be a douche, than let him. You have never needed some guy to make you happy or to tell you how to live your life – so why start now?"

"Dean's not the reason why I'm not hunting."

"Good, than that's one less excuse you can use to convince yourself to hide here at the roadhouse." He squeezed her shoulder. "Don't try and tell me you aint itching to get back on the road again. I know you Jo, better than anyone, and you hiding here with your mom is bullshit."

"I'm so glad I went to sleep so I could be nagged in my dreams." Jo commented, but from the moment he had said the words she knew without a doubt that he was right. She was itching to get back on the road. Despite the fact that she was still trying to process all that had happened, there was a familiar tug in her bones that told her to get in her car and drive. She'd never understood what people meant when they said they had a 'calling' in life, but speaking with Ash now, even though he was an illusion, she started to feel the meaning of those words.

"I suppose there is still work to do, right? Anthony said it himself back in LA."

"There you go." Ash stood up, dusting imaginary dust off his hands. "My work here is done."

"So that's it, you're going now?" Jo asked suddenly feeling panicked. "Don't go. Not yet."

"Come on, Jo." Ash smirked and reached for the door handle. "You've got shit to do." He opened the door and brilliant white light shone through, invading her vision. Jo raised her arms to shield her eyes until she realised she was back in her own bed, and the bright light was early morning sunlight streaming through her curtains. It took Jo a minute to realise she was no longer dreaming, and she dropped her arms and rolled over. Her alarm clock read 6.09am.

A smile crept across her face, and she threw the covers off her body. Without another thought, Jo dragged her duffle bag out from under her bed and began to shove her belongings inside as quickly as she could.

* * *

As always, feedback is always appreciated and treasured!


	24. Chapter 24

**Rating: M**

**A/N: **This is the final chapter! Firstly I want to start off by saying, 'Woohoo! I never thought I'd make it!' and secondly I want to say sorry to the long wait for the final installment. A big shout out goes to **Reporter Girl** and **Vanessa** for putting up with me, for listening to me rant about ideas at odd hours of the night, for proof reading a dozen different versions, and for giving me so much support and confidence. A big thank you also goes to every single person who has commented and left feedback. I can't express how much it means to me, except to say I could never have finished this without you all. Supernatural fans rock! I can't wait to hear what you think of this ending. Hate it or Love it, I really hope it was worth waiting for.

Okay enough with the chit-chat, lets do this!

PS. Stayed tuned for a later update with the soundtrack list that accompanies this story.

**

* * *

**

'**By the time I get to ten'**

"Dad?"

Dean stood at the threshold bewildered. An exact replica of the long dead John Winchester rose up from the couch to confirm his question. "In the flesh," he greeted with a wry smile. He made to move towards Dean, his hands extended with the offer of a hug, when Dean pounced; revealing a lethal looking hunting knife clenched in his hand.

"Dean, wait! I've already-" Sam cried out in warning, but the knife slid cleanly across the impostor's bicep. Dean quickly retracted his hand, ready to defend himself if need be, and placed himself between the thing and his younger brother. Adrenaline streamed through his veins, his limbs itching for action; but the impostor showed no signs of anger or retaliation. Instead, the John Winchester clone retrieved a bloodstained towel from the couch, and applied it firmly to his arm. "Dean," Sam urged, reaching out to touch Dean's stiff shoulder in assurance. "I've already done every test there is - it's really dad."

Eyebrow raised, Dean did not relax his stance even after the impostor seated himself on the edge of the couch. He stared at the being in front of him, studying him for any single flaw that would give evidence to justify the misgivings in the pit of his stomach. "Sam, what's going on?" He narrowed his eyes on the distinctive stray strands of grey hair just above the impostors' ear. The same scattered amount he had noted the last time he had seen his father alive. Hope rattled dangerously against Dean's taunt ribcage.

"Can't a father just visit his sons?" The impostor asked, waving Sam off when he picked up his duffle bag in order to fetch the first aid kit.

"Not when you're supposed to be a pile of ash," Dean countered, lowering his knife ever so slightly. He straightened up from his slight crouch, and squared his shoulders, his jaw tense. "If you really were my dad, you'd be chewing my ass off already for not shooting you the moment I walked through the door."

"If I was here to chew you out kid, _not _shooting a stranger would be at the bottom of a very _long_ list." The man sighed, and shuffled backwards until he was leaning against the back of the couch. He lifted the towel slightly to inspect the knife wound. "So this is what happens when I leave you to hold the fort for one minute - you decide to take on the _Devil_? You definitely inherited that from your mothers side of the family."

Dean's lips twitched with the desire to smirk, but he repressed it. He glanced over at Sam, who was still clutching the first aid kit, when a waft of an all too familiar scent of his dads aftershave left him riddled with doubt. Dean could not deny that stranger things had happened in his life, yet his stubborn nature kept his hope on a short leash. "You're not my dad."

"Says who?"

"Says me," Dean snapped, raising the knife again and rounding on the stranger. He grabbed a fist full of the impostors' warm, buttery soft leather jacket. "Say's common sense-"

"What would you know about common sense?" The impostor bit back, startling Dean by snatching his wrist from his jacket, and twisting Dean's arm until his own knife was pressed against his back. Dean attempted to wiggle free from the stronghold, but he'd never been one to escape the famous John Winchester back pin. "Do you know how many times I would have loved to march down here and smack you seven ways from Sunday, son?"

"Don't you dare lecture me!" Dean snarled, and quickly darted free when he felt a slight slack in the pressure of John's grip. He rubbed his wrist, tossing a quick five second glare at his brother for not coming to his defence, before turning on John. "You dumped us in this mess. You left me unprepared, and with nothing but a shit load of questions and half assed orders."

"You think I wanted to leave you boys like that?" John argued, tossing the blood soaked towel on the ground. "I would have given anything to stay and protect you. Fight with you. Fight _for_ you! I did the best I could at the time, Dean. In fact you have already proved that you're also willing to do what ever it takes to protect your family." Dean shook his head, avoiding Sam's eyes and crossing his arms across his chest defensively.

"Why are you here?" Dean muttered peevishly.

"Dean-" Sam tried to break in.

"Don't, Sam." He held up his hand to silence his brother, and turned his gaze on John. "Did heaven give you a hall pass now that the danger is over, and all the hard work is done?"

John shook his head, and squeezed the bridge of his nose with his fingers. Dean blinked. He knew that hand gesture anywhere. It was a stalling technique his dad used when he was trying to come up with some grand lie to cover up the truth. Dean had seen it repeatedly through his childhood; none more so then when Sam started asking where their mom was. "Get out."

Sam whipped his head towards Dean in surprise. "But it's really dad, Dean. Trust me, I know-"

"Trust _me_, Sam." Dean insisted. "Real or not he's about to unload some serious BS, and I _refuse_ to listen to it after the day I've had." He tossed his knife on the bed and promptly sat down on the edge of it while he began to loosen the laces on his boots. "You wasted your time coming here. You're two years too late."

"Dean, wait. Dad said-"

"He's right, Sam," John interrupted. He sighed and took one of the bottles of beer from the small coffee table and took a long gulp. "The real reason I came here wasn't because the Angels thought you boys deserved a personal congratulations."

"Told you," Dean mumbled and kicked his left boot off. His brother glared at him, before turning back to John.

"Then why-?"

"I'm here for, Dean."

Dean froze, where as Sam's body seemed to deflate. He sunk down on the bed beside Dean, his expression clearly reading disappointment. "You're here for _him_? What does that mean? Where are you taking him?"

"Relax kid before you give yourself a aneurism," John quipped with a grin. "I'm not here to give Dean his marching orders. He's not going anywhere unless he gets it into his thick skull to auction off his soul again." He paused, giving him a patronising look. "Nice going by the way bone head, what were you thinking leaving your brother here alone like that and with that guilt?"

"What can I say?" Dean growled, kicking his remaining boot off. "I'm my fathers son."

"No, you're your mothers son."

"Huh?" The two brothers echoed sharing a confused look.

"Never mind." John silenced them. "As I was saying." He cast a warning look at Dean. "Dean's not going anywhere. In fact Dean won't be going _anywhere -_ unless he gets his act together and mans up to the task at hand."

"Excuse me?"

"When your mother died…" John paused briefly, a flash a pain illuminating his eyes before it was quickly replaced with a look of determination. "Dean, I understand what you're going through-"

"Really?" Dean interrupted, his hands balling into fist. "Cos I don't think you would be here giving me a guilt trip if you did, and if that's all you came here to do than forget it, you wasted the trip – I'm done listening."

John's face hardened and for a second Dean thought the man was going to strike him. After a few tense minutes of silence, John spoke through gritted teeth. "I'm only going to say this once kid, so listen good.-"

"Like hell I do!" Dean exploded. "Don't you dare sit there, and act all high and mighty… like you're some loving, caring dad." He frowned. "If you really are dad, cut the crap and tell us what you want."

"Why do you have to make everything so hard for yourself, Dean?"

"You tell me, Dad?"

"Dean, stop." Sam pleaded. "Dad said he couldn't stay very long."

"Colour me surprised."

John stood up, placing his beer on the table. "I told your mother this would be a waste of time. You're too stubborn for your own good. You're just like me in that regard I guess, but I thought seeing as you've got a son of your own that you might have matured enough to take some advice when it's given to you."

"What advice?" Dean grunted, folding his hands across his chest.

"Pull your head out of your ass."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," John insisted. He placed the beer down on the table firmly. "Don't you go making any wise cracks, you're not Mr Innocent anymore, and you've got a lot to make amends for." When Dean dropped his gaze to the floor bitterly, John let out a heavy sigh and stood up. "You want to know why I'm here, Dean?" Dean continued to stare at the floor, his gaze burning a hole in the stained carpet. His jaw ached from clenching it so hard. "The truth is, I can't watch you destroy yourself anymore. I'll be the first to blame myself for you being the way you are, but I'm here to tell you son, enough is enough."

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked, glancing from Dean to their dad.

"I'm talking about Jo, Sam." John responded, his gaze never wavering from Dean.

Dean sniffed, and began to pick at a stray strand on the edge of his shirt. "What's she got to do with anything?"

"Lets start with how you're in love with her, Dean."

"Oh come on!" Dean protested looking up at his dad with irritation.

"Don't 'oh come on' me, kid. From one man to another, you are wasting the best thing that'll ever happen to you." John shook his head sat down on the edge of the couch. "Look, I know how you're feeling. When your mother died… I went crazy. I lost my mind. I was wracked with guilt, I was angry, I was scared and I was mourning the loss of my whole world." He paused to take a deep breath before continuing. "I know that right now everything feels like a mess. But Dean, your brother and I know that despite everything that has happened, you're still in love with her."

"I'm not-"

"He's right, Dean." Sam pleaded, nodding his head. "What Dad is saying is true."

"Oh great. So now you two are ganging up on me?"

"Dean," John lectured. "You know that if anything happened to her you'd regret it for the rest of your life."

Dean jumped to his feet, his eyes wide. "Are you trying to tell me that something's gonna happen to Jo?"

John raised his eyebrow curiously at Dean's reaction. "No. But your reaction to the idea is proof enough that you still care about her."

Sitting back down, Dean released a long weary sigh and hung his head. "Yeah, well, it doesn't matter anyway. She made it clear that it was over the last time when saw each other."

"And whose fault is that?" Sam jumped in. "You didn't even give her a second to explain. You just stormed off. What was she supposed to do? Crash tackle you?"

"What does it matter anyway? What's done is done. Too much has happened-"

"Stop making excuses," John warned. "How about you be honest with yourself for a change? It's time to start making some choices, kid. _Smart_ ones."

Dean rolled his eyes, and released a frustrated groan. "Dad, I'm not-" He stopped short when he realised that his dad had vanished into thin air. He glanced over at Sam, who was glancing around the room in search of their father with a disappointed frown. "Typical." Dean muttered bitterly, and threw himself backwards so that he was now lying on the bed. He stared up at the ceiling, mulling over the conversation while his brother quietly moved about the room, gathering up the empty beer bottles.

"Hey Dean?" Dean grunted in response. A few moments of silence passed between them before Sam swallowed and finally voiced what Dean had been too afraid to say himself. "Do you really think that was Dad?"

Dean sat up slowly, trying to come up with the right answer. "I honestly don't know." His brother nodded with confirmation, but didn't press the matter any further. Dean felt a familiar pang throb inside his chest while he watched Sam leave the room to have a shower. Once the water was nosily rushing through the pipes above his head, Dean lay back down on the bed.

'_Why, out of all the times we really needed him did he decide to come back now?'_ Dean wondered, searching the stained ceiling above him for answers_. 'And what was all that stuff about Jo such a big deal to him? Dad was always about protecting Sam, that was my job, my own priority in the world – and now… he didn't even mention how badly I had screwed up with Sam and the whole Ruby and Lucifer thing. There's no way that was Dad. This has got to be another one of Heaven's tricks – but why?' _

Dean's restless fingers found his cell phone wedged deep in his jeans pocket. He frowned, deliberating whether or not Jo had received a similar visit from a dead loved one. He couldn't help but worry about her own reaction to a similar visit and considered her response if that visit was from her father.

Before he could change his mind, he pulled his phone free from his pocket and began to dial Jo's number – only the find that the number had been disconnected. Dean tried again and received the same pre-recorded reply.

Sam exited the bathroom, hair slicked back and carrying his shaving kit. Dean barely noticed his brother's troubled expression as he made for the door. "Where are you going?" Sam asked, sounding anxious.

"I just have check something in the car."

"Dean-"

"I'll just be a sec-"

"I have her new number."

Dean whirled around, barely containing his surprise. "W-Whose number?"

Sam reached over and pulled his phone out of his bag and tossed it towards Dean. "Bobby gave it to me. He said regardless of your feelings, it's safer and smarter if we know how to get in touch with one another." Sam smiled, but the look didn't quite meet his eyes. "He also said you'd cave eventually."

With a roll of his eyes, Dean slipped outside quietly. He paused once he had shut the door behind him, his thumb hesitating on the call button. He glanced up briefly at the night sky; feeling like a battle was raging on inside his head. Eventually after a quick shake of his head, Dean made his way to the Impala, opened the door, and lowered himself heavily onto the drivers seat.

One deep breath later, he closed his eyes, hit call and waited for her to pick up.

* * *

"Huh," Jo responded, rolling her sore shoulders back and forth while admiring her work. "That went surprisingly well."

"_Well_?" A voice squeaked beside her. "You just full on killed a zombie like Buffy or something. A real, freaking I'm-going-to-eat-your-brains-for-dinner zombie!" The tight black jean clad teenage boy pointed at the fresh grave in front of them. "A _real_ zombie! And you just cut her head off like you were just trimming the hedges or something. I'm going to need therapy for like, FOREVER!"

"You're welcome." Jo grunted, and picked up her shovel and slung it over her shoulder. The two high school boys trailed behind her nervously as she headed towards the track that led to her truck. She tried to block out their endless whispering by humming to herself.

" - no one is every going to believe us."

"You think I want the whole world to know that we were nearly eaten by your grandmother? Or the fact that we were saved by a some skinny blonde chick?"

Jo's eyebrows raised. She didn't think she was that skinny? She was normal sized. Even after being pregnant, though in her defence it wasn't a normal pregnancy, she had returned to her regular size and Jo thought that was fine.

"- what about when she staked Nanna? I thought that was what you did with vampires?"

"First of all; 'Nanna'? Dude, that was not the little old lady that used to sneak us five dollars when your mom wasn't looking. That was a.. a.. well I don't even know what to call it! All I know is, is that I am never EVER reading a book that isn't approved by my fifth grade English teacher – that's if I ever read anything ever again!"

Jo paused, and turned around to face the two teenagers with an amused smile. "You should listen to your friend; he's a smart guy." She replied brightly.

The lanky, long greasy haired boy who had been the one who had accidentally risen his grandmother, gripped his friends arm. "Just so we are clear, umm, she can't come back again can she?"

"Did you make any more copies from the book I just burnt?"

"N-No."

"Are you planning on brining anyone else back from the dead to increase your popularity?"

"No."

Jo smiled, and patted the kids' shoulder. "Than you'll be fine." The boy didn't look convinced. Jo sighed. She was irritated, and was feeling unusually strained from the light tussle with the overzealous rotting carcass bent on eating her grandson. "Just avoid ordering Wicca books off the internet again, ok? Especially when you don't know what it is you're cooking up."

The kid nodded, bitting his already buttered cracked lips. "Okay." He glanced at his friend and nodded at him before turning to her. "Thanks… um again.. for your help." He started to walk back to the car to join his friend, who was currently muttering about puking his guts up, when he stopped and whirled around. "You're not going to tell my mom about this are you? Because I'd be grounded for life."

Rolling her eyes, Jo shook her head. "No, Liam. You're safe. Just try and stick to video games ok?"

"Are you kidding? You'll be lucky if I watch something other than a Disney movie after what we just saw."

Jo pointed at the kid's friend. "Maybe you should get him home before he passes out… again."

"Sure. Ok. Bye."

Climbing into her truck, Jo waited until the boys had driven away in their borrowed mini van. Despite the dull pain at the base of her spine and the stiffness in her neck, Jo decided to keep on driving on to Tulsa instead of spending another night in Pine Bluff. Bobby had informed her the night before that there seemed to be a ruckus of the poltergeist variety bothering a newly rebuilt retirement home.

Mentally making a check list of all the things she'd need for the new hunt, Jo was about to turn onto the highway when her phone beeped, indicating a text message. Keeping her eyes on the road, she fumbled around her duffle bag until she found her phone. Flipping it open, she was surprised to see two missed calls and a message. Her surprise turned to irritation when she read who the message was from.

**D. Winchester**

_Hey_

Rolling her eyes, Jo closed her phone and placed it in the cup holder. '_Hey? After all this time he randomly texts, Hey'? What the hell?' _She mused, while hitting play on her cd player. She tilted her head to the left, trying to stretch out the stiff muscles in her neck and eliminate the headache brewing inside her skull. A stray thought of a hot shower and a warm bed taunted her, and brought out a frown on her face. She kept driving.

Her phone beeped again, and she deliberately counted to fifty before she let her curiosity get the best of her, and she read the message.

**D. Winchester**

_Jo – Bobby gave me your number – call me back._

Screwing her face up, she snapped the phone shut again, and tried to pay attention to the dark endless road in front of her. She shifted in her seat, trying to negotiate a comfortable position, but her spine wasn't having it. A weather damaged sign up ahead indicated a motel with free cable.

Her phone beeped again, but she ignored it. With a defeated sigh she took the next exit and headed towards the motel. '_A quick shower and straight to bed'_, she reasoned with herself, _'and it's back on the road by sunrise'. _

It was a whole hour later before Jo finally extracted herself from the steamy bathroom. She crossed the small room, drying her long blonde hair with a towel, and tried to avoid the floor to ceiling mirror acting as a room divider. Her expression ultimately caught her attention and forced her to stop and study herself critically in the mirror.

Turning sideways, she lifted her tank top and analysed the stretch marks adorning her sides with a disgruntled frown. "How wonderful," she muttered pulling her shirt down firmly. "I suppose I have wrinkles too?" She leant forward, inspecting her forehead while manipulating her features with numerous expressions.

Feeling thoroughly depressed and in dire need for something sugary, Jo wrestled her hair into a pony tail, and pulled on a jacket. Her boots sat where she left them by the front door, so she slipped into them without bothering with the laces and swept her keys and knife up from the table. Knife hidden, she opened the door and came face to face with Dean.

Startled, she took a step back and instinctively grabbed the door ready to slam it shut. "Dean?" She rasped. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you," he answered sounding annoyed. "I did try calling you half a dozen times, and when you didn't answer I thought I'd make sure you weren't dead."

Scoffing, Jo went to slam the door shut in his face when he stuck his foot forward to stop it shutting. Annoyed, Jo frowned at him. "Fine. I'm alive. See you around."

"Jo-"

"Goodbye, Dean." Jo kicked his foot out of the way and was about to shut the door completely when he swore.

"Fine! Be that way, I didn't mean to interrupt your extremely busy life – I'll go." He pivoted on his heel, jamming his fists deep into his pockets, and stalked off towards the Impala parked across the parking lot.

Feeling irritated, (and if she was honest - guilty), Jo closed the door when she heard him curse and storm back towards her room. Jo held her breath as he pounded on the door until she was worried that he might actually break it down and she opened the door.

"Look Jo, I know you're all Miss Independent now and I get it, I really do, and I know that I've got no right showing up here and expecting you to be all forgiving-" Jo's stomach clenched as she took in his wide frantic eyes, and his flushed cheeks. A quick glance at the rest of his dishevelled appearance and she realised that Dean looked exhausted, anxious and nervous. He was not the man she expected to see after months of silence and a hateful goodbye.

Doubt began to invade her mind, and for the first time since LA Jo began to wonder if she had been wrong all those lonely months. "Dean-"

"- I just drove eight hours to see you and I had this whole speech planned and –"

"Dean!" Jo interrupted, with a raised voice. She tried to school her thoughts and the suddenly surging emotions into a clear sentence. However all that tumbled out was, "Have you got any candy?"

Dean stared at her incredulously, his eyebrows slowly bunching together in confusion. "Huh?"

"There's a gas station down the road," she explained taking a tentative step forward while shutting the door behind her. "Wanna come for a walk?" She started to walk off in the direction of the gas station without waiting for an answer, leaving Dean to splutter behind her.

After a few anxious heartbeats later, Dean's heavy footsteps crunched after her. Jo was almost too embarrassed to admit to herself that deep down she was relieved that he had followed her.

A tense and nervous energy started to crowd around them while they walked down the highway in silence. Sneaking a glance at Dean out of the corner of her eye, she realised he was whispering something under his breath. "Dean, are you practising your speech?" A burst of laugher caught her by surprise as pure joy erupted from deep within her. She couldn't remember the last time she laughed so hard.

Dean looked put out for a few seconds before admitting his embarrassment with a bashful chuckle. "It was a long drive, ok? I wanted to get it right."

Her boisterous laughter drowned out the rest of his protests.

* * *

Anthony tried to feign surprise when he heard the fluttering of wings behind him. Trying to look like he hadn't spent the entire night sitting on an uncomfortable bench seat outside a two star motel room, he greeted Castiel with a forced cheerful smile. "Hey Cas, beautiful morning isn't it?"

"You would know – I'm sure you managed to observe the sunrise from your position." Castiel did not seat himself beside Anthony, instead he observed the dew covered Impala in front of him with obvious suspicion.

The young Angel cringed in anticipation of the long lecture the older Angel would most likely force him to endure. Not only had Anthony blown off his shift as prayer watcher that night, but he had also broken Castiel's promise that he would no longer interfere with his parents' life. He stole a quick glance up at Castiel in an attempt to gauge how furious the Angel was with him.

To his surprise Anthony discovered a fond smile had crossed the Angels smooth features. Following the trench coat clad Angels' line of vision; he scrutinized the occupied motel room across the parking lot. It was the only one in the building with the shades drawn.

"I had to come see for myself," Anthony spoke up, trying to appeal to the unflappable Angel. "When I heard the whisperings about Dad driving resolutely all night, I had to see if it was all going to work out."

"And has staring at a closed door all night fed those doubts?"

Anthony sighed, shrugging his shoulders. He couldn't lie to Castiel, and the truth was he had been seconds away from figuring out a way to enter the motel room undetected, and that _really_ would have gotten him into trouble with the others. "No," he admitted dejectedly. "I'm dying to know what's going on inside."

"You do not appear ill."

Anthony grinned, and leant back against the bench. "Funny, Cas. That was a good one."

Castiel bobbed his head up and down in acknowledgement. "It has been made apparent that so long as your mother continues to draw sigils on the doors to keep out prying eyes, you will remain disappointed. My suggestion is that the best course of action is to return to your duties unless instructed otherwise."

Anthony sighed and stood up from the bench sullenly. "Yeah. Fine. Let's go then, Boss."

Castiel's sudden firm hand on his shoulder stopped Anthony from departing, and he was unable to hide his surprise at the gesture. Castiel lowered his voice, his face drawn tight with reproach. "I would also suggest an immediate revision of the rules set in place about impersonating ones deceased relatives - regardless of misguided intentions."

Cheeks flushing red with shame, Anthony looked down at the ants scurrying about franticly under his feet. He new instantly what Castiel was referring to, and he couldn't fault the Angel for reprimanding him. He had known very well that there would be consequences for masquerading as his deceased grandfather. "But Cas, I wouldn't have had to do it if Grandpa John agreed to come himself!"

Without looking surprised, Castiel responded calmly. "I believe he was wise to decline your offer."

"But you saw Dad's reaction!" Anthony cried out exasperated. "No one else can talk sense into him like Grandpa John can, and when he refused to listen to you I knew I had to do something-"

"Manipulating a human's emotions in order to achieve ones personal goals is forbidden – these rules are mandatory for _everyone._ You are not above reproach Anthony; you are the one who is supposed to lead by example."

"But-"

Castiel squared his shoulders, and stared authoritatively down at the younger Angel. "This matter is not open for debate. I shall give you one moment to collect yourself and then we depart immediately for counsel. I warned you Anthony, and given your unique situation I have left you to your own devices, but now the others insist that I take action."

"I'm in really big trouble aren't I?"

Castiel did not answer him immediately. Instead he upheld his commanding stance and lifted his gaze up at the sky. A miniscule smile ghosted the edges of his lips. "It is nothing that you cannot endure." He eventually replied. "But make no mistake Anthony, you may have inflicted more harm than good. It was childish and foolish of you to manipulate your mothers destiny by changing-"

"What are you talking about?" Anthony stepped back aghast. "I didn't touch her, I swear. All I did was give dad a talking to. I didn't do anything other than that."

Castiel raised his eyebrow in disbelief. "Then if you did not - ?"

The two Angels turned to stare at the motel in front of them. Just then the motel owner rounded the side of the building, a broom in hand. He spotted the two men and began to approach them warily. "Are you two fellas after a room?"

Anthony shook his head. "No, we were just leaving."

The motel owner analysed them with an apprehensive look. Castiel motioned to the Impala in front of them. "We require gas – where would we purchase some?"

"Smooth, Cas." Anthony hissed, sending the Angel a quick glare.

"Okay then." Despite sounding doubtful, the owner look relieved by Castiel response, and turned around to point down the road. "There's a gas station down the street there. You can't miss it. If you need-" he turned around only to find Castiel and Anthony had disappeared.

A large smile crossed his worn features, and he leant against his broom while looking up at the sky. "Bunch of chuckleheads." He shook his head and reached over to the Impala and ran a gentle hand over the bonnet. The dew instantly evaporated and the Impala sparkled in the sunlight. "Such a beautifully designed machine."

Picking up his broom, the owner resumed walking to the check in desk with a smile and light bounce in his step.

Meanwhile in room twenty-four, Jo awoke from a blissful deep sleep. Releasing hold of the hunting knife under her pillow, she sat up in bed, and blinked sleep out of her eyes.

Wedged uncomfortably on the couch under the window, Dean slept soundly, drool pooling on the pillow under his face. Jo felt a warm feeling creep into her heart as she observed him, and she hugged her knees to her chest.

Despite having talked until the very early hours of the morning, Jo felt the long overdue sensation of peace wash through her. Though traces of guilt still lingered deep in her bones, (and she suspected they always would), Jo realised that something had changed overnight.

Dean grunted something in his sleep and rolled over, the movement causing him to land heavily on the floor. Jo tried to suppress her giggle with her hand, but Dean's well-trained ears heard her, and he frowned at her over his shoulder.

"Sleep well did we?"

"You have no idea," she responded with a leisurely smile. "You?"

"Never better," Dean grunted while pulling himself back up on the couch. "What time is it?" He lazily scratched his bare chest while a series of yawns followed his question.

Jo checked the clock on the nightstand. "Pretty late."

Dean nodded and with a crack of bones he stood up and began to stretch. "Well we better get going if we're going to make Tulsa before midnight."

"I didn't invite you to come hunting with me." Jo reminded him tersely, climbing out of bed.

"I know." Dean quipped with a cheeky grin. "And I didn't say you could keep my shirt." He reached over and tugged her towards him, planting a soft and sweet kiss on her lips. "And yet I don't see you taking it off any time soon."

Jo raised her eyebrows. "You want your shirt back?" With a smirk, she lifted the shirt up over her head and tossed it at his face. "Here you go, Winchester. Now go fetch us some coffee, and I'll think about letting you come hunt with me."

Dean grinned, letting the shirt fall from his face. His smile grew wider as she sashayed from the bed to the bathroom dressed in only her underwear. "Yes Ma'am." He saluted and his comeback was answered with a closed bathroom door.

Pulling on his t-shirt, Dean recognised her scent wafted up from his shirt. With a smug expression, he yanked his boots on and grabbed his car keys, barely remembering to grab his sunglasses as he headed out the door. Locking the door behind him, Dean slipped his phone out of his pocket and hit speed dial.

"Hey Sam, it's me – there's been a change of plans…"

* * *

*Deep breath*

THE END.


End file.
